Close Encounters 31
by chezchuckles
Summary: Brokenclaw. For the Castle Ficathon 2017. After Spy Castle and Beckett return from Colombia, they must right a few wrongs at home.
1. Chapter 1

**Close Encounters 31: Brokenclaw**

* * *

 _for you who asked_  
 _Castle Ficathon 2017_

* * *

"Well." Kate glanced back and forth between them at the breakfast table and then threw up her hands. "We'll take him with us."

"Kate," her husband hissed.

She shrugged. "Castle, we have to be there. I have an analysts' staff meeting to go over the plans for when I'm out next week, you have a budget meeting, two active missions in critical stages at 1100 and 1700, and Ryan keeps bugging me about something related to you know who. I _know_ the Director is making a surprise inspection of the NYC Office, I do. But we have to be there."

"We're not bringing him with us," Castle growled.

"Then we'll get your mother to baby-sit."

His nostrils flared, his jaw worked. He looked across the table to where James sat in his high chair, smearing bananas across the tray. "Damn it. We'll take him in with us."

"Your mother has offered numerous times to-"

"Don't be a bitch," he muttered, narrowing his eyes at her. It was hard not to smirk in his face, but she managed it, turned instead to the pantry to pull down the granola for her own breakfast. Smirked at the pantry instead.

"Hey, clean him up, will ya?" she said, shuffling containers until she found the enhanced stuff Logan and Boyd had concocted for her. She was supposed to be eating three cups of it a day until the experimental procedure. "I think he managed to eat at least half that banana."

"You clean him up. I'm already dressed. I'm not staining my tie again."

She wrinkled her nose at him as she turned around with her breakfast, and she came back to the kitchen table. Castle _was_ already dressed, quite nicely, and he was even wearing one of her favorite ties, so she should probably be sporting. She had only just gotten out of the shower.

"Fine," she sighed, plopping down beside James. "But you'll have to sit in it for a while, little man. I have to eat this."

Castle rose from the table, tie tucked into the placket of his dress shirt to keep it out of his own cereal. He leaned in over her and kissed her temple. "Yes, you do. Thank you for acknowledging at least that much in regards to your health."

"Hey," she sputtered, indignant at the put-upon tone in his voice. "I have informed you of every step of this process."

He grimaced.

She shrugged, pouring granola out into the bowl and reaching for the almond milk - also fortified. "Can't help it if you're scared of a little procedure. Yours is first, you know-"

"I have three days," he muttered. His left hand shifted behind his back as if hiding the damage from her. The Colombian ER doc had done a worthy job, but Castle had already been hopped up on regimen and the fast-acting serum had outstripped him. His hand had... healed interestingly.

"Logan promised you wouldn't feel a thing," she told him softly.

"They're gonna break every damn bone in my two littlest fingers," he growled. "How is that not going to hurt?"

She shook her head. "Lidocaine and-"

"You know that doesn't work on me."

"It _works_ ," she corrected, laying a hand on James's foot as he drummed the kickboard of the high chair. "Baby, quiet. I'm trying to keep Daddy from being so scared." Castle squawked just as James did, trying to get his foot back. She winked at the baby, turned to Castle. "It works, Rick, it just wears off faster on you than on us normal people. He's going to give you multiple injections."

"Whatever," he said, slinking to the sink to deposit his bowl. He was already disappearing into the dining room before she could calmly argue away his irrational fear of Logan's necessary procedure.

"Uck," James said happily, calling after him. "Uck, Dada."

Kate laughed and shook James's foot, resumed eating her breakfast. "You're right. Daddy's being grumpy. But guess what, wolf? People are calling Daddy The Claw. To his face. That's an old spy movie reference. Or Elvis, not sure. Anyway, he needs to have it fixed so he can be our super-"

"I heard that!"

"You were supposed to!"

James giggled and smeared bananas in his hair.

* * *

Castle wasn't worried about his hand like he was worried about Beckett undergoing this damn experimental procedure. And in the middle of this the Director wanted a tour of Eastern European operations in the New York City field office on a day that had two active missions in critical stages?

He was being checked up on and he didn't fucking appreciate it.

He didn't appreciate much that had come out of the DC office these days. Marjorie had stiff-armed him on his one visit right after he and Beckett had gotten home from Colombia, and all of his inquiries - careful as they had to be - had led nowhere.

Beckett still had ideas about Ravi from the DC Office but Castle wasn't willing to hang a man on the basis of his son's discomfort. The kid had... something going on, emotionally, mentally extra-sensory, whatever. But that wasn't a good enough reason to charge an analyst with treason.

Though, Kate was right; he trusted his kid more than he trusted a single agent at Langley right now.

"Hey, bringing in the little guy again today," the security guard inside the garage said to them. He leaned in and patted the door frame. "You know I gotta scan."

"Already unlocked," Castle assured him. "And he won't bite you this time, promise."

The guard, Razniski, laughed and reached for the handle of the back passenger door, his weapon holstered though the second guard - who would always remain in the booth - kept his weapon at the ready.

James babbled nonsense at Razniski as the man patted him down and checked the car seat, and then the back seat and the rest of the cargo area. James kicked his feet out and beamed at Raz, and the guard evidently was beaming back, having a love fest going on.

Castle, from the passenger seat, rolled his eyes. Beckett tapped two fingers on the steering wheel and didn't comment, smiling that damn smug smile of hers.

"Alright, we're good here," Raz said. "Here's the sticker." He walked back to the guard gate and pulled a visitor's sticker from the printer as it came out, and then he hustled back and handed it to Castle. Echo, it said. And only Echo.

At least the New York Office knew how to keep things quiet.

"Has the Director come through early and surprised us?" he asked.

"Naw, not yet," Raz laughed, shaking his head. Because they both knew it would be just like the man. "Have a nice day, sir."

"You too, Raz." Castle thumbed up the window as James called out _bye bye bye_ , the car rolling forward.

"Good job, baby," Kate was saying. And Rick wasn't sure if that was directed at their son or at him.

* * *

Kate had her briefing first thing, and it was going to take a while, so she forced James on Castle. "Just, keep him occupied. I don't need him distracting everyone in my meeting."

Castle groaned. "I told you this was a bad idea."

"Talk to Logan about your surgery, how they'll reset your bones and do some PT and you'll be good as new." She patted his chest dismissively.

"I already know about my surgery," he whined at her. She was trying to collect her handout materials before Omkar came in her office to rush her. Castle hefted James in his arms and followed her to her credenza. "I want to know about _your_ surgery."

"More like a procedure," she said automatically.

"You'll have to be in the hospital," he retorted.

"Only overnight for observation," she answered, gathering packets from the long counter. "And it's our lab hospital, _and_ it's not like you won't be there every second."

Castle was still huffing. "Your dad was supposed to be-"

"Castle," she snapped, turning on him.

"Sorry. But he was."

"Castle, my father has a _life_. I am grateful for that. Don't tell me you can't take care of your son for a measly few hours. Shit, where is the field report from Manx?"

"Oh my God, stop calling her Manx. I hate that name."

"Well," she said archly, gathering another stack of handouts that covered the Spain thing. "If you had listened to me about it-"

"So now you're getting back at me?"

"No, Mommy!"

She laughed, her ire diverted by the serious remonstrance on her son's face, a little miniature of his father's. She leaned in for half a second to give James a kiss, _yes wolf,_ and that was when Omkar rapped knuckles on her door and stuck his head in.

"You're late."

"I know. Collecting materials. Give me five."

"We have Spain in two hours and you said-"

"Five minutes, Omkar. I'll be there."

"Yes, ma'am." He shut her door and Kate turned back to her husband.

He was pouting, his jaw working. She reached up and slapped him lightly on the cheek. "Manx isn't her code name, it's what we use around the analysts' table. It can't hurt to have one more layer of protection. And last. Rick Castle. Go find Logan, he's on site today because of the Director, and you have him go over every last detail of the procedure until you're satisfied."

"Gonna 'fix' your red blood cells," he huffed, averting his eyes.

"Needs to be done," she said quietly. His eyes came back to her face and she gave a very slight nod. "Better now than later. When it might be too late."

Castle paused. His gaze searched hers.

She cleared her throat. "Boyd thinks the damage might increase exponentially with every - activation of my immune system. Every cold. Every sinus infection. Every vaccination. The procedure has to be done, Rick. Before the damage is irreversible."

"Fuck," he croaked. A shaky breath. "I'll talk to Logan."

* * *

Her staff prep meeting had run long and Castle was waiting outside with the baby in his arms, his left hand clawed at James's back. He'd spent the time doing work of his own with the kid penned in his office with him, and he had a critical stage coming up soon that he had to be in the command center for.

And now Kate was taking a phone call. Damn it.

He sighed and turned, jiggling James on his hip to keep the kid from squirming to get down. Omkar, on his way to his own office, passed him and tapped James on the nose. The baby peeled with laughter, such a marked difference from his encounter with Ravi in the DC Office, that Castle really had to revisit the idea that maybe Kate had something about the guy.

"She's almost through," Omkar assured him. "Ryan has a weird issue with spam email."

Spam email? Seriously? "Fine, I know. Besides, it'll be you baby-sitting him if this call goes long."

Omkar checked his watch. "You have an hour before critical stage."

Castle lifted an eyebrow and Omkar slowly backed out of the conference room.

"Bye, bye, bye," James called, lifting his rubber block in salute. Omkar didn't bother saying good-bye; he just made a fast exit.

"He's not ignoring you," Castle said consolingly. He plucked a cracker from Kate's desk and fed it to the boy. "Just scared of me. The Claw."

"Caw! Daddy, caw!"

Reynolds came in on a laugh, apparently hearing the end of that. "Oh good, glad I found you. We have an hour-"

"I know. I'll be ready."

Reynolds shook his head. "No, I mean, we have an hour before critical stage, but the Director is on the business floor talking shit about an audit."

"Fucking hell," he muttered.

James beamed and clapped both hands, the block falling from his grip.

Reynolds laughed and bent to pick it up, and Castle could see Kate's eye rove over them and then away again, avoiding meeting his burning gaze.

"Obviously, the Director wants your attention," Reynolds started.

Castle shook his head. Studied his wife a moment longer. "Stay here. Be right back."

He slipped away from Beckett while she was on the phone with Ryan, and even though he had the kid with him, he thought it might make the impression he was going for.

James had a fistful of his father's suit jacket, the other hand shoving a cracker in his mouth. Crumbs fell across Castle's lapel, but he didn't bother to brush it away as he stepped onto the elevator.

The Director was making his 'annual' tour of the New York Office for the first time in three years, and while Colombia had been weeks ago, Castle had not forgotten it.

The elevator doors opened on the business floor, and Castle shifted his son to his other arm, leaving his dominant hand free. Just in case.

He moved fast down the hall, ignoring coworkers' greetings and the MPs who stood at attention for him. James gave shy little grins to pretty much everyone, so Castle figured his kid was providing enough social cover for him to be rude.

He met the Director's team just outside the accountants' office, and Castle pushed through them without comment. One of the security agents gave him a once-over, but again, the kid was useful. No one wanted to think an active field agent holding a kid was going to do something in the bowels of the NY Office.

The Director was on his feet, standing before a desk as he went through a bunch of binders.

James stiffened in Castle's arms. "Uck!"

"That's right, wolf. _Fuck_."

The Director straightened up, turning to meet them. "Richard. Ah. And the boy." He scowled at James.

Castle narrowed his eyes at his boss and put James on his feet, pausing only long enough to be sure James was steady. And then he stood to his full height, pulled back his fist, and he punched the Director in the face.

To his credit, the man rocked backward, stumbled once against the desk, but stayed on his feet.

Castle turned and scooped up his son, ignoring the pulse in his fist. He gripped James even as the MP from outside came rushing through the door.

"Don't you fucking _ever_ put my family at risk again."

The Director paused, a hand against his bloodied lip, and he waved off the MP.

Castle turned without another word and walked out.

He should have used his bad hand, broken the bones on the Director's face rather than have Logan do it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Close Encounters 31: Brokenclaw**

* * *

"Rick Castle, have you _lost your mind_?"

He jerked upright when she stormed into his office, but his ears were pink and he didn't offer a defense.

"You _punched_ the Director."

Castle hunched over his desk. Beckett shut the door behind her, just shy of slamming it, and only because the baby was watching her. Which should have also restrained her _husband_.

His ears were red now, but his defenselessness was over. "He deserved it."

"Our _son_ did not deserve the lesson you just taught him. You told _James_ that we use violence to solve our problems."

"Kate-"

"No." She jabbed a finger his direction, stalking towards his desk. "No. You gave such a wonderful show-"

"Hey, you're being a little harsh."

"You want harsh? I'll show you harsh _tonight_ , when he goes down for bed. For now, I will be the responsible one, the parent who doesn't expose our kid to the dark side of this job. I'll be the one-"

"Damn it, Kate," he snapped, jerking to his feet. "He used my family to set his damn traps, to work his fucking politics. He put all of us in danger, not just you and me, but James. That is unacceptable. I taught my son that too, didn't I? Family is more important than this job. So lay off."

"Don't _speak_ to me like I don't know," she hissed.

"Then don't yell at me like a damn nag-"

"What is your problem. What is your _problem_ , Rick? All damn week you've been treating me like I'm against you, like I'm not on your side. Either talk to the therapist, or be _nice to me_."

She turned and strode to the couch where James was watching them intently, and she scooped up her son. James cocked his head and whined, and she kissed his temple, murmured _no don't worry, we're fine_.

"Kate."

His voice was low, somehow muffled.

She turned. Castle had the heels of his hands pressed into his eye sockets. She waited and heard his sigh.

It was so sad.

"Rick," she murmured, taking it off his shoulders, putting it back on herself even though none of this was her fault. For once. Had been plenty of other times though. She could cut him a break if he was going to really try here.

She carried James over to Castle at his desk, stepped right into her husband. His head was bowed, and she slid her free arm around his shoulders, hugged on both boys until Castle finally leaned into her.

His forehead to her hip, he swallowed roughly and let out a little breath.

James kicked a foot and it ricocheted off Castle's jaw. They both chuckled, and James gave her a pleased, proud look and wriggled in her arms.

"Castle."

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "It seemed like the right thing to do."

"Punching your boss in front of your son seemed like the _right_ thing?"

"I had a bad role model as a kid," he deadpanned, lifting his head to her. "What do you expect?"

She growled, sat down hard on the desktop and dropped James in front of his father. Castle startled and grabbed for his kid, and Kate twisted his ear. He yelped, James cracked up laughing, and Kate pulled Castle's head around.

"I expect more from you, and you damn well know it. Stand up."

Castle whined at her but he stood, his hands keeping James from crawling over his desk. She still had him by the ear, but she released him to plant her hands on her hips.

He stalled her out with a fast kiss against her mouth, teeth nipping her bottom lip. "I know. Don't start-"

She jerked back, holding him off. "You. You need to talk to me. To someone. Or you ain't getting it."

He huffed at her and hung his head, gathered James up from the desk. Took a pencil out of James's fingers. "No, wolf, not that." Kissed those fingers. "Sorry, I'm... struggling with this." He released James's hand, still not looking at her, and brushed down the boy's hair where it stuck up on top.

"The procedure," she sighed. "For my blood. Damn."

He cleared his throat, still petting James's hair, the boy watching him with serious eyes. "And I know that's why you didn't tell me about it, because I have such a... bad reaction, and I'm trying to be the man you need-"

"No, Rick." She stepped into him to touch a kiss lightly at his jaw, her fingers smoothing the frown creasing his lips. "Never meant for you to think that _you_ had to change just because I'm incapable of full disclosure."

He grunted, maybe close to a laugh, and she squeezed the back of his neck, nudging in closer, as close as she could get.

"Hi, Mama!"

She laughed, tilted her forehead to Castle's cheek so she could see their son. "Hey, little parasite. You have a good morning with Daddy?"

"Hi, Mommy."

Castle chuckled then, his hand on the top of the boy's head. "We did, right, kiddo? I got some work done and you built an obstacle course all over my office until I nearly broke my neck."

"You?" she smirked, lifting an eyebrow. "Somehow I don't believe that. James, don't let Daddy lie to you. He's too good to break his neck over some toys."

Castle grumbled, but there was a smile in his eyes now.

She leaned in and picked up the baby, put him on her hip as she studied Rick. "We need to talk some more about this, Rick. Tonight?"

He rubbed a hand down his face. "Yeah, guess... yeah. I have two more-"

"I know. But I've wrapped up my meetings, and all I have left is paperwork." She gave James an exaggerated face and he giggled. "I'll take the parasite with me for some lunch, and then you come find me after you're done. We'll be in the analysts' bullpen."

"Mm, alright," he sighed. He cupped James's face and gave the boy a kiss on the top of his head. "Be good, love you."

"And me?"

He lifted his head and laughed, shrugged at her as he came in to bestow a kiss on her forehead. "Yeah, you too." His mouth was a tense line against her head, and he sighed and dropped a better kiss to the corner of her eye, something vulnerable in it. "Love you too."

She smiled and patted his cheek, shifted James on her hip to give her back a break. She could be in top form on every physical test the CIA had, and carrying around her almost one year old still required that much more. "You okay?"

"Sorry I've been pitiful," Castle said, grimacing. "Doesn't help having the kid here when we both are being pulled a hundred different directions. But I'll be fine."

"Alright," she said, not pushing. Castle would talk tonight; he always talked. "See you."

"See you," Castle said abstractedly, already gathering intel reports for his critical mission stage in thirty minutes.

She carried James to the door and watched Castle for a second, then rapped her knuckles on the frame to get her husband's attention.

He looked up at her, gaze distracted.

Kate pointed a finger at him. "Don't think your pitifulness gets you off the hook, buddy." She cupped her hand over James's ear, pressing his head to her chest. "In front of our son, Castle. There will be a reckoning."

"Damn."

She strode out of his office.

* * *

It was a damn difficult day, but at least his two missions completed their critical stages with no loss of life. He could even rest assured in the knowledge that there'd been no injuries either, so something at least had gone right.

He had an email waiting when he got back to the office. From someone on the Director's staff.

Eight a.m. disciplinary hearing tomorrow. Conference Room 19B.

Meant the Director intended to stay in town _and_ he was going to show up at their office tomorrow. Probably had changed his plans just to preside over this meeting, take Castle down a peg or two.

He groaned and scrubbed both hands down his face. He'd missed lunch, but Kate had sent in snacks to the command center during his second op, and he'd scarfed down five protein bars and two bottles of water as they'd waited for their guy to make contact.

At least, he was assuming it had been Kate's idea. Not like the courier from the mess had told him it'd been his wife's doing; he'd just had the feeling.

Time to find his family and get the hell out of here. It was late, and the boy needed to keep his schedule, which meant dinner soon as they could manage it.

Castle finished up some email queries, made notes for tomorrow, and then he began logging off systems and shutting down. He gathered strewn pencils and pens from across his desktop, spotted teeth marks on a yellow pencil that made him smile. He pocketed the pencil, patted his breast pocket as he scanned his desk.

He turned off the desk lamp, eyes still roving, found the drawing James had done during a restless hour and he folded that up and pocketed it too. He came around the front of his desk and began collecting the kid's blocks and teething rings, found the corduroy elephant pushed under his office couch. He tucked it into the crook of his elbow, piled the blocks and toys on the couch.

Castle got to his feet once more and opened his office door, pulled out his keys to lock it behind him.

Reynolds was passing in the hall and he grinned, tapped the elephant in Castle's arm. "I like your snuggle. Looks good on you, man."

"Snuggle?" Castle gave him a deadpan look. "Is that what _you_ call a stuffed animal, Ren?"

He grunted and only the fact that he was a covert operative kept the embarrassment off his face. Castle grinned in response and shook his head, squeezing the elephant in the crook of his elbow.

"You looking for Beckett?" Reynolds said, a little duck of his head. "She took James to the gym. They're rolling around on the mats."

"Thanks," he laughed. "Should be interesting. They drawing a crowd?"

"You know it."

"Great." She always did. Even in their own damn office, she pulled people, drew them to her, made people want to follow. "We're probably heading out for the night, but I'll be back around six tomorrow for our seven o'clock."

Reynolds nodded. "I suit up at nine, so I'll be catching a flight after."

"Yeah, yeah, that damn thing in Spain."

Reynolds shrugged. "Manx has her end under control. I'm there for support mostly."

He rubbed his eyes and sighed. Manx was catching and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. See what Mason said about the name they'd come up with for his girl. "Tomorrow, Ren. I'm punching out for tonight."

"Right, yeah, my fault. Go get your family."

Castle nodded, carrying the elephant with him down the hall to the elevators. He got a couple of looks but mostly everyone knew James was with them today. When he got to the gym and training rooms, he stood at the observation window for a few minutes to watch.

Kate was on her back on the floor, one of the sparring mats, her hair splayed around her head like a halo. She was laughing hard, her eyes on the baby - who was sitting on her chest and crowing about it.

Looked like James had won.

Well. Kate looked pretty damn happy with the end result, so really, she seemed the winner in this one.

Castle pushed in through the metal doors and the sound of their echoing clang brought James's attention around to him.

"Dadadada!"

"I see you've conquered your mom, kiddo."

"Me!"

Kate was still laughing, that breathless sound of too much fun, and she tilted her head on the mat to watch his approach. "You found Ele."

"I did," he said, tugging the elephant out from his arm and tapping James's nose with it. "Want your snuggle?"

"Snuggle?" she snorted.

"Reynolds's word," he grinned.

She giggled and pulled her knees up, bracing James as he lunged for the stuffed animal. Castle caught him and drew him off her, lifting the kid into his arms. "Dadada, uck!"

"I hope that's _look_ ," Kate laughed, scrambling to her feet. She swiped hair out of her mouth, lips still wide in a smile that did wonders for his attitude. "Daddy's so good, he found your elephant, James. Can you say thank you?"

"Ooh-ooh!"

They both chuckled; it would work.

He kissed James's forehead and turned for the doors. "Speech therapist in your future, kid."

Kate followed, picking up the boy's bag from where she had propped it against the wall. Castle took it from her and pulled it over his shoulder, but she had her own messenger bag that she kept. Castle opened the door for her and she followed, adjusting the strap on her shoulder.

"What's for dinner?" she said, turning to look at him, still grinning.

"Let's go out," he answered. "Celebrate my disciplinary hearing tomorrow morning."

She laughed, but she was rolling her eyes at him. "You deserve it."

"Which one? The hearing with the Director or the celebratory dinner?"

Kate shook her head. "Both, I guess. Fine. Celebration dinner because Daddy is a badass who thinks he can bully his way clear. Right, James? Wanna celebrate with us tonight?"

"Ight, Mommy, me!"

"Hey, good boy," Castle praised. "No idea what you said, but that's more words than you've said in weeks. We can table the speech therapist for now, kid."

"Let's get home, let out the dog, maybe walk down to that cafe with the tables outside?"

"Bring Sasha, you mean."

"Yeah."

He nodded. "Sure. We can do that. I'll let Mitchell know so he can have someone there ahead of us."

She grinned and nearly skipped down the hall towards the elevators, punched the call button with energy.

"What with you?" he said, laughing a little to let her know it wasn't a bad thing. "All happy and bubbling."

She shrugged, but her smile was permanent. "Been a good day. Despite your grumpy bullshit. We're getting things done, good things here. And that surgeon is coming in to fix your hand, Boyd and Threkeld are working on the blood stuff, and I really feel like we're close to just - fixing it, you know? I hate how it weighs on you, these choices we had to make. But we're gonna fix it."

He swallowed roughly.

She smiled. "A really good day. So yeah, let's celebrate."


	3. Chapter 3

**Close Encounters 31: Brokenclaw**

* * *

Kate lifted James to her nose and jerked back again, scrunching her face. "Oh boy. I shouldn't have fed him the bell peppers from my salad."

Castle chuckled, lifting his eyebrows. "Remember that chili night when Hunt was here?"

She nodded at him, a hesitant side eye. They had just walked through the door, and James had apparently been working on that dirty diaper the whole drive home.

Castle petted Sasha behind the ears as he dropped the baby's bag on the dining room table. "I was the one who got up five times that night to change the kid. While you slept. There were bell peppers in the chili and it was not pretty."

"What are you saying?" She narrowed her eyes at him, holding James a little ways away from her body. "It's my turn?"

"That bad, huh?" He shook his head and reached for his son. "Naw, I'll do it, love. I have experience, that's what I'm saying."

"No," she said, drawing James into her chest. The boy whined and scuffled against her neck, kicking his feet up to climb her ribs. "No, Rick, I've got it. I'm going to change, too. So might as well. Will you take the trash with you when you take Sasha out?"

Oh. He was taking Sasha out, alright then. "Yeah," he said. "And I'll message Mitchell or Reese or whoever is on detail right now."

"It's Mitch," she nodded, heading for the stairs. "He said he wanted to take a shift every week, just to keep his hand in."

"Riding a desk," Castle grimaced, watching her scale the stairs with James. "Does in the best of us. You and me, Beckett, we gotta get out into the field more often, you know?"

Her face lit up, even as she was attempting to keep James from climbing over her shoulder and spilling down the stairs. "Yeah. I know, I mean, I think so too. Stay sharp."

"Stay alive," he countered.

"I love you," she returned, grinning at him now. She had ascended the top of the stairs, and now he was forced to turn in the entry to keep her in sight. "Trash, Castle."

"Castle Trash?" he called, teasing.

She gave him the finger as she disappeared into the baby's room with James.

"Careful," he called in warning. "It's gonna be... runny."

He heard her direct her complaints to James and he smiled to himself, dropped his gaze to the entry, the living room with their pale blue walls and the well-worn couch.

He could put that down in the basement and get her a leather one; she'd said something about how outdated it was, stained, how James kept gumming the arm and she was picking stuffing out of his mouth.

He _should_ do that for her. Surprise her with a new one, or maybe just be normal and take her shopping at a regular store, let Kate pick out her own couch. Or even-

Damn.

Buy her shit because he couldn't be _nice_ to her? Not okay. Not the way he wanted their family to work, and definitely not the way to her heart. She wasn't a gifts and flowers kind of woman; she wanted his words, she wanted him showing up in action. And yeah, he had a tendency to do that, buying her a whole island came to mind, but that was _his_ love language, not hers.

Sasha barked at him, snapping him out of his introspection. "Yeah, yeah, standing here in the entry is kind of torture for you, isn't it? My fault, puppy. Let me tie up the trash from the kitchen. Shit, and the diaper thing probably too."

Castle made quick work of rounding up the trash from downstairs, made a stack by the back door.

"Kate?" he called up, coming to the bottom of the stairs. He didn't hear her in the boy's room, so he jogged up. Both were gone, but the diaper genie looked stuffed full; she'd probably meant this trash all along. It drove her crazy when he took out the kitchen trash but forgot to check the others.

He didn't get it, really, but he was going to collect all the others from upstairs, that was for sure. He was already pretty much well into the doghouse with her, and it was his own damn fault, so at least he could get the trash done right.

Castle deposited the bag from the baby's room at the top of the stairs and then went hunting for the others. Office first, then their bedroom-

"Whoa."

Kate laughed. Naked. Completely naked, and so was James. "I gotta rinse off both of us after that one."

"Oh, ew. I warned you it was runny."

"It was exceedingly runny, but don't remind me, I might gag."

"You?" he scoffed. "Never." He followed her into the bathroom and saw she had already put their clothes in the tub to soak. "Oh, wow, that bad. Well, I came upstairs to collect all the trash. Since I'm taking it out."

Kate twisted on the water in the shower stall and turned back to him, pressing James closer. "You did? Good job, baby."

He rolled his eyes and reached in under the cabinet for the trash can, pulled the bag out. Kate brought James into the shower with her and the boy shrieked in delight, laughing hard as he was pelted with the spray. Castle straightened up and watched through the clear glass of the door, Kate trying to keep James from bowing backwards and out of her arms, James's lashes dewed with water.

He swallowed roughly and carried the trash out of the bathroom, headed for the stairs. He collected the rest of it, came down to call for Sasha, and then the gathered trash at the back door.

He felt like an asshole, knew he didn't deserve them, either one. He'd done nothing today to even indicate his gratefulness at such a gift, nothing but give her a hard time and punch his boss in front of her kid. And then complain to her. And be generally a shitty husband.

"Damn," he muttered, opening the big bin behind the house. He glanced up at the brownstones surrounding them, the narrow strip of sky between the buildings, the sense of anonymity it always gave him. "Fucking hell, I'm an asshole."

"That you are."

Castle startled badly, drawing a weapon that wasn't there, only to find Mitchell coming out of the darkness. He must have entered through the side gate they'd had built into the narrow space between their house and the next; his hands were in his pockets and he was sauntering.

"What'd you do this time?" Mitchell said, coming to stand with him at the edge of the patio.

Castle gestured for Sasha to go on, she had circled back at Mitchell's approach, and he turned to his friend. "You get the message about us heading down the street for dinner?"

"All of you? Yeah, did. Why I'm here. Won't crash your dinner, but I'll be on watch."

"Yeah, I appreciate that. Kate said you wanted to keep your hand in."

"Mm. So what did you fuck up today, Castle?"

He snorted and rubbed a hand down his face. "I punched the Director."

Mitchell laughed, turning to him in the evening's last light. "You did not."

"Yeah."

"Why the hell would you do that?"

"You know we were on mission for a short thing? An exfiltration that didn't go as planned-"

"Hey, man, only tell me what you can," Mitchell warned him. "I'm not looking for classified information."

"No, I know. It's not. Just the bare essentials for the story. Anyway, Director sent us, had this elaborate meeting at the DC Office and Margie insisted we bring James to her, to meet her. So. We did."

"Bet he was a hit."

"He was," Castle nodded, lips thinning. "He was but the Director had arranged certain people to see that little display, or knew they'd be in and around at that time. He was flushing out a fucking mole with _my_ son. My family. And it came back to bite us. Hard."

"Ah."

"Yeah." He watched Sasha sniff at the large tree in their backyard. Kate was still so awed by that tree. _A tree in New York City, Castle._ He'd countered with, _A tree grows in Manhattan?_ And she hadn't laughed. The baby really loved that tree too.

Mitch cleared his throat in the silence. "You do realize the Director was just being the Director?"

"Playing fucking games is what he was doing."

"Doesn't he always? Isn't that his damn job? Fucking hell, if you can't see that, you've lost your perspective, my man."

"Perspective doesn't mean I want that man parading my son around a fucking traitor," he hissed.

Mitchell socked him in the shoulder. "Fucking calm down. I'm just saying - if you went to DC thinking it was a cute family trip, you've lost your mind."

His jaw worked. That tasted sour going down.

"You said you were an asshole, but punching the Director doesn't sound like very assholery behavior. What'd you do, Castle."

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I picked a fight with Kate."

"Why the fuck would you do that?"

Castle glanced at the man, narrowing his eyes. "You know, it's not easy when your wife is adored by every damn male she meets."

"And every female."

"Fuck you," he said without heat.

Mitchell shrugged. "You picked a fight with her."

"Yeah, and I'm an asshole for it, I know."

"Especially when she has that fucking experimental procedure in like nine days, Castle."

He growled. "What the hell do you know about any of it?"

"I know it's fucking _experimental._ I can't believe you're letting them do that to her."

His heart clutched. "Boyd and Threkeld said it had to be done. Her immune system is triggered and..." And he didn't really know.

Mitchell was waiting, face open and expectant.

"Kate said it was necessary," he finished lamely. "She scheduled it for a few days after my hand thing, to be sure I could use it."

"Is that... are you fucking kidding me?" Mitchell laughed. "You don't know a damn thing about it?"

"I know it's supposed to give her DNA something to fill in the gaps."

"Are you _fucking serious_?" Mitchell shoved on him hard enough to cause Sasha to issue a warning bark from the fenceline. But Mitchell waved off the dog, not taking his eyes from Castle. "The last time they fucked with her blood, she basically _died_. And you know _nothing_ about this? You're a fucking _moron_ is what you are-"

"Hey, now, lay off," Castle growled. "It's not like I understand the fucking science behind this. I've got a handle on the nutrition and dietary requirements for _all_ of us, I've got-"

"Fuck the nutrition. If she dies in nine days, like hell you're gonna care-"

" _Dies_ ," he barked.

"You think she's not totally fucking _scared to death_?" Mitchell sneered. "What an asshole. You're right, damn right. And I don't think taking her out to eat is really gonna make up for that kind of woeful and willful ignorance, Castle."

"What the hell is your problem?" he yelled.

"I'm trying not to fucking _smack_ you, that's my problem!" Mitchell squared off against him. "You ought to fucking treat her better than that, going under in nine fucking days so those two damn absent-minded professors can fuck around with her DNA-"

Castle went for him. All the rage, the soul-sickness, the fear - it boiled right out. He hit Mitchell in the chest and drove him back, but only a step before Mitch banded his arms around Castle's torso and heaved him away.

Castle wouldn't be heaved. They wrestled hard, each grappling for the other, panting hard but barely moving from their spot at the edge of the patio. Castle vaguely had a sense of the dog barking around them, but he was growling himself and trying to tear Mitchell to pieces for talking about his wife ( _himself,_ really, talking about him and his wife and how fucking stupid and blind and ignorant he allowed himself to be-)

It went nowhere. Castle got a punch to Mitchell's ribs, Mitch socked him in the eye, Castle kicked a kneecap, and Mitch kneed him in the groin with a _you don't need these anyway._ And that did it. At that they were both cracking up with laughter, the switch was thrown and they were collapsing into the grass, not really laughing but wheezing.

He was out of breath and bruised, and Mitchell was groaning as Sasha circled him. The dog was snapping at Mitchell's fingers and ears in retaliation, though not quite biting him. Castle reached out and snagged a finger in Sasha's harness, gasped in pain as one of his smaller digits caught and twisted.

Shit. Two days before they fixed his hand, rebroke these jacked up bones and shaved down the knots and removed the spurs. Really fucking hurt sometimes.

And Kate had arranged everything, made sure he got it done, made sure her own issues came last so she could be right there for everything. She'd even told their security team so that he'd have whatever he would need, hadn't she? God damn it.

Mitchell fell back to the grass, breathing hard and swiping at his face. "Damn."

"Yeah," he croaked. He rubbed the back of his neck where Mitch's grasp had chafed the skin. "Yeah, I'm..."

"Burying your head in the sand," Mitchell said softy, "and hoping it will go away. And Rick, when has that ever worked?"

He swallowed roughly, shook his head. "Never."

He'd call Logan after dinner, get the full story on the procedure. And then he and Kate were going to talk. Really talk.

Well, Kate was going to talk and Castle was going to actually listen this time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Close Encounters 31: Brokenclaw**

* * *

James, for some reason or another, was expressive tonight. Making faces, his happy noises, babbling at them, teasing the dog.

He kicked at Sasha from the booster seat they'd brought with them and had wedged into the wire chair. Whenever Sasha nudged her nose up and took James's sneaker in her mouth, James gave his old man chuckle and clapped.

Patrons of the cafe watched and smiled and hid their own laughs behind their hands, eyes tender on the almost one year-old and his delight. James talked back to them, blew kisses, made noises down at Sasha under his chair as if in some combination of wolf and human.

Werewolf speak, Castle called it.

Kate felt at ease for the first time in weeks, despite being on a public sidewalk with the baby in full view. They came here often because of the poor line of sight from the five-story walk-up across the street, and the lack of hiding places along the block. Not much traffic came this way and the cafe also had a patio in the alley between the buildings, so it was difficult to come up on them without Mitchell's team knowing all about it.

It felt good out here, the crisp fall day and the breeze that came down the barren street. She had changed into jeans and a plaid shirt, while Castle had kept his dress pants on, the blue oxford shirt. He had removed the tie, and unbuttoned the first few buttons, and his forearms flexed beneath the rolled up cuffs. Delicious.

They had both ordered coffee and were enjoying the atmosphere. The cafe had patio heaters placed strategically, and tiki torches dug into buckets of sand at every table. Strings of white lights framed the windows and made the place cheerful and happy.

Like the baby.

"Ma-ma-ma-uck!"

"Kiddo," Castle sighed, lips twitching as he reached over to the boy. "Careful with that sword." He scooped up the broken end of the breadstick and handed it to James. "There you go. Hey, Mom? Can you get the carrots out for him? I'd rather he didn't fill up on pointless carbs."

"Don't food-shame my baby," she told him, narrowing her eyes. Castle startled, his mouth dropping open, apparently unable to tell if she was serious. Kate laughed and leaned out to pluck one of the containers from the bag, checking to be sure it was the mashed carrots. "Kidding, love. I'm kidding. You do a good job with our nutrition, keeping up with us."

She set the carrots before James, pried the lid off, and the baby attacked them with both hands.

"Whoa, whoa," Rick said, catching his hands a second before he could dig in. "Shit, kid. You smear that in your hair and face and it will stain for days."

"Uck, Dada, uck," James said sagely, wrinkling his nose at them.

"Here," Kate laughed, snaking the spoon out of one of the side pockets. She handed it across the table and Castle grabbed for it, handed it to James. Kate huffed. "He can't-"

"Let's just see," he murmured. "Never know. Try some, J-P. See if you can."

James banged the spoon on the table and cackled; recently it seemed the boy was attempting to sing along to his drumming. Or... shout along? On the island, one of the security agents had played a lot of ska in the guest cottage, and the kid had really liked it. Even now, Castle might stream a ska station in the living room because the kid bounced on his knees and ran around like he was dancing.

James babbled his serious nonsense and stabbed the carrots with the end of his spoon. He grinned up at them and then, before Kate even saw it coming, James had flicked his carrots off the end of his spoon.

They landed somewhere. She heard them land. She gaped at Castle, and Castle's ears flushed pink. He turned around and swiftly scanned the patio, but no one seemed to have noticed any unidentified flying mush headed their way.

"Oh God," Kate laughed, clapping a hand over her mouth.

"Jay," Castle said seriously, reached over to carefully disengage the spoon from the boy's fist. "Try it like this." He practiced digging into the carrots with the boy, his hand wrapped around James's in the correct way to hold the spoon, but James writhed in the seat and gave a noise of protest.

"Rick, love, I don't think he's old enough yet to master that skill. Can't you just-"

Before she could ask Castle to just go ahead and feed the boy, something dropped out of the sky and landed with a plop on top of Castle's head.

Carrots.

She cracked up with laughter, wheezing so hard that she could barely keep herself upright in the chair. James seemed bewildered by her hilarity, and he leaned in against the table calling her name with concern.

Kate couldn't help herself. She was breathless with it. Her stomach cramped with her effort to hold it in, to actually help her husband rather than just laugh at him.

Castle reached for a napkin, holding very still, but definitely playing it up, his melodrama flaring.

Melodrama. "Oh God," she giggled. "We have to call your mother."

The amusement wiped off his face and he growled at her, swiped at the top of his head for the mush of orange carrots. James seemed to have just caught on, as his eyes were widening and his mouth opening into a wide 'o' of surprise.

"Mama!" He pointed at Castle's forehead.

"I know, I see," she said, biting her bottom lip. "You kinda flung it up there, wolf."

"Call my mother for what?" Castle grumbled, swiping at his hair again. His nose wrinkled and he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to de-orange it. He made faces at James until the baby laughed.

"Come here," Kate said, leaning forward and gesturing for him to do the same. The table rocked as he did, Sasha huffed at them from under James's chair, and the baby babbled around his fingers.

Which, Kate now saw, were smearing a handful of carrots into his mouth. Around his mouth. Against his cheeks. His neck.

"Oh boy," she sighed. "Well. Orange-stained it is. Just like Daddy, unless I can get this out." Kate worked at pulling little chunks of carrot out of Castle's hair, wincing sympathetically. "If you weren't so damn good at the puree, Rick, I'd be able to get more of it."

"So you're saying I've shot myself in the foot."

She grinned at the scowling face in front of her. "Little bit." She nudged on his forehead. "Don't worry. That's what you have me for."

His scowl slowly melted into a soft adoration that made her heart flutter in her chest. She picked carrot out of his hair, wiping the mush on a napkin, until she had to dip her fingers in her water and comb those clumped bangs back off his forehead.

"There," she said softly. "Rakish but still charming."

His lips twitched. "You got it?" he murmured.

"Yeah. Mostly."

He leaned back, his elbows still on the table, and he was staring at her. "You're beautiful. Looking at me like that."

Had she been the one looking? Kate sighed, her hands falling to her lap. He'd come inside from taking Sasha out with a smudge on his eye; it had already disappeared, whatever bruise it might have been. He had only told her that he and Mitchell had gotten into a wrestling match - and that he was sorry.

The waiter came back out with their meals, interrupting Castle's staring, and she leaned back to allow the plate to be placed in front of her. Vegetable-pasta tortellini in a thick white sauce with sausage crumbles and shaved carrots.

Castle had ordered what was basically a fancy cheeseburger, though his elitist chef sensibilities would never let her call it that. James had a scrambled egg from the kitchen, which the cafe never charged them for, and he eagerly plunged his fingers into the fluffy mass and shoved egg into his mouth like a beast.

Castle thanked the waiter, and Kate silently began tucking into her own food. She realized she was starving, despite the latent nerves she had over Castle's upcoming surgery, and she began swallowing her tortellini whole.

"Slow down, love," Castle told her softly. "James seems like he'll let us take our time tonight."

She flashed him a smile and then looked across the table at her son. He was dragging eggs across his plate and making noises, as if playing an elaborate game, and she had a pang of homesickness, wishing for their island.

It had been difficult, especially with Colin Hunt there, but it had also been beautiful.

"Kate?"

She took her eyes away from James with effort, met her husband's gaze with a twitch of a smile.

He shook his head, his jaw tensing and releasing, and then he gestured to his plate. "Want some sweet potato fries?"

"Yeah, I do actually." She darted a hand forward and snagged a few of them, dipped the ends in his dish of ketchup. She stuck them in her mouth and sighed, chewing slowly, making herself savor the taste, their time here tonight.

"This blood transfusion, the procedure. You've arranged things so that I'll have help if something happens to you."

Kate choked on the fries, swallowed roughly and glanced up at him. "What?"

"Don't."

She sobered, glanced down at the table as she licked salt and white truffle from her thumb. "I have."

"I didn't think it was supposed to be... are you afraid, love?"

Her shoulders hunched and she glanced to James. "I think I am," she sighed. Closed her eyes. "I know I am."

"Oh God-"

"No, don't. I can't bear it if you're-" She shook her head violently and didn't look at him, couldn't. "I need you, Castle. If you can't... we used to tell each other, be brave, be brave, and God, I need you to be that for me right now. I need you to stand up under this or I'm gonna collapse."

"Kate," he said insistently, and his fingers wrapped around hers at the fork. "Kate, look at me."

The thread of steel in his voice had her obeying; she always did when he sounded like that, like the super spy.

His face was stone. "You should have told me."

She shivered.

His eyes remained impassive. "This is exactly what you should have come to me with, this right here. You're _afraid_ , and that's - you should never have to do that alone."

She squirmed in the chair, not sure how this had somehow turned into a rebuke, into _her_ getting a talking-to when he was the one who stuck his fingers in his ears and refused to listen.

He grunted. "I know I've been burying my head in the sand. In work, in the kid, in our new teams, in catching up. My hand." It was his clawed hand that was around hers, squeezing where the fingers would obey him. "I know I'm a total failure at asking to be let in on the loop. But, baby, if you're _afraid_ , you come to me. I don't know nearly enough about this, but I will, at the very fucking least, _hold you_."

She swallowed roughly past the knot in her throat and nodded, glad he'd done this here and not at home. At home she might be sobbing. At home, she'd cave to the overwhelming emotionalism of having him. Or she'd claw his eyes out. Depended on the day.

Here, in public, she would keep it together and she would speak the truth rather than simply run.

And he knew that. "You stopped listening to me," she said quietly. "First about your hand. And then about the stuff in my blood. You get scared too, Rick. And I don't _like_ to make you afraid, so I quit talking about it."

His jaw worked but he was nodding. "Mitchell slammed me into the back patio. We broke the pot you use for the tomatoes."

She laughed, surprised by the sudden confession, though she knew it meant Mitch had been the one to rat her out. To shake some sense into her husband. "That's okay. I can get a new pot."

"You grow juicy tomatoes," he mumbled.

She cast him a knowing look. "Is that a squash in your pants or are you just happy to see me?"

He laughed then too, shaking his head at her, his eyes a little clearer now, his face no longer stone. The more lines on his face, the better he felt, the closer his smile was to the surface.

She liked being able to do that.

"I'm gonna call Logan when we get home and this one is finally settled," he said, nodding to James. "But I want you to talk to me about this first. What makes you afraid, and why you're only now telling me about your compromised immune system."

"It's not compromised," she protested. "I wouldn't be sitting out in a sidewalk cafe licking my thumb if my immune system were compromised, Rick Castle."

He let out a little breath and nodded. "Good, that's good. I... okay."

She rolled her eyes, but she picked up their joined hands and kissed his misshapen knuckle. The one he would have rebroken and set by a surgeon very soon now. "Let's eat dinner, I'll tell you what I know."

"In layman's terms," Castle warned.

"I know. I'll do my best not to use the big words."

"What a bitch."

"What a bastard."

He grinned; she grinned back.

And then she tried to explain.


	5. Chapter 5

**Close Encounters 31**

* * *

Castle felt the blood drain from his face. "This sounds more and more like what my father did to you in Cologne." His chest was tight. "After Paris."

Kate was still smoothing her thumb over his knotted knuckle, but she nodded. "You might say it's similar. Chelation treatment took out the toxic minerals, but the infusions put things back in. This is a little more in-depth than that."

Infusions was a word he knew. "Like what they made from James's blood," he said slowly. His eyes inevitably went to the baby swinging his feet against the chair, teasing Sasha under the table. James must have sensed his gaze because he looked up from his carrots and beamed. Castle gave him a tight smile. "Hey, wolf."

James clapped, mashed carrots flew from his fingers.

"Whoops," Kate chuckled, plucking wet wipes from the bag and handing them over the table.

Castle took them, reached to clean the boy's palms, those tiny fingers. He kissed first one and then the other hand, and James chortled with glee, grabbing for the scruff on Castle's cheeks.

"Infusions, if you want to use that word... this time, Rick, it's not made from his blood," Kate said quietly. "We aren't taking anything from him."

"Whose blood then?" He heard his voice raising. "You said it's-"

Kate leaned in, a warning on her face that made him close his mouth. Too many people here, too open. She nodded and gently took the wet wipes from him. "Stem cells created in the lab."

"Stem... no." He blinked and sat up straighter, gave a darting glance across the patio. "That's not possible."

"It's being worked on at Harvard Medical," she murmured. "And I think Threkeld said Johns Hopkins has the funding for a similar research project. But Harvard is the closest; they think within the year. They're the ones specifically seeking to create stem cells which they will then flood with proteins to catalyze red blood cell growth."

"You're telling me that our lab - _our lab_ \- beat out Harvard Medical?"

She winced.

"Holy shit," he croaked, sitting back in his chair.

"Uck, Dada!"

He laughed, glanced beside him to James. "Not quite that bad, kiddo. Here, eat your food." He scooped another helping of carrots onto the spoon and plugged it in the kid's mouth. James smacked his lips and gave them a sticking out tongue of orange mash. "Nice. Real classy, Jay."

James grinned.

Castle smoothed a hand over the boy's head, turned his attention back on Kate. "Okay, so they made you red blood cells to basically replace your own."

"In a really loose way of looking at it," she said, handing James another breadstick. "They're young cells, so they're healthy, they're not damaged, but mostly it's the stem cells? They need my own marrow to make these red blood cells correctly, not misshapen."

"You-" His nostrils flared. "Yours are misshapen? The last I heard it was scratches. Mis _shapen._ "

"A little," she whispered, hesitation across her face. "Don't think of it like that though. Because it's _not_ like the regimen - which is my problem. You have those cells that _are_ misshapen, abnormally shaped, right?"

"Yes." He at least knew that much. "Because of DNA manipulation."

"Exactly, yes. That's what I _don't_ have. Your particular specific shape. So when I was ingesting all of those additives and supplements and the serum variant - which, by the way, was variants five and nine-"

"What the fuck," he grunted. "Versions five and _nine_? How did I not know any of this?"

Her eyes flattened out.

He grit his teeth. "You told me. You told me and I didn't listen."

"I... tried to tell you. Once or twice maybe. You were-"

"I was afraid," he muttered, swiping a hand down his face. James squawked in protest and Castle fed him another bite of carrot. "Yeah. Fuck me. Okay. Five and nine. They have serum variants for me too, I remember that much. And none of that worked as good as the original."

"Well, Threkeld and Boyd have tweaked a few things," she said, almost like a question. "So. Um. You're on variant thirteen." She winced. "Lucky thirteen."

"Damn. I... Did Logan ever tell me any of this shit?"

"I'm pretty sure you looked at him with that blank _I'm just an agent_ expression and he gave up trying to explain."

"Shit. I do that to you too, don't I?"

Kate chewed on her bottom lip.

"Alright. I'm an asshole." He turned to James and fed him another spoonful of carrots. "Can you say _that_ one? Daddy's an asshole. He doesn't bother to listen to Mommy when it's really damn important and might mean her life."

"Or yours," she added softly.

"Doe!" James stuffed a fist into his mouth and gummed it.

Castle had to put the spoon down to wipe carrot off his hand. "Good talking, buddy. Doe. Close enough."

"Okay, where were we?" Kate said, sitting up straight again. "Right. So the idea is that my epithelial cells are used to make the lab-created - um - you know whats-" She was giving the cafe patrons the side-eye. "And then from there, the transfusion process gives me platelets and red blood cells."

"Replaces the old with the new," he said slowly. "But that's... I mean, that's what? A couple hours hooked up to a machine?"

She nodded.

"Then that's not all of it. That's step one. How many other steps are there?"

She passed a hand down her face. "There's a second phase, and it has a two-step process. To - uh - give my body the chance to make its own red blood cells correctly, not just keep transfusing."

His stomach churned. "You mean _every_ drop of blood is coming out of you-"

"No," she said firmly. "No. Because it's only red blood cells and platelets. There are other things in your blood that have to stay in. It's not a whole blood thing, Rick."

He let out a slow breath, working through the implications of everything she'd told him. It was difficult to believe that a scraping from the inside of her cheek could possibly create viable and correct stem cells with a simple bombardment of proteins.

No, it wasn't simple. He could see that now.

"What about cancer?" he said finally. "The big problem before was that - that these things mutate and start growing out of control."

Kate took his hand again, squeezing tightly. "Platelets and red blood cells don't have a nucleus," she said patiently. She kept her gaze steady on his - and he knew that tactic; she was trying to reassure him. Trying to get through to him. "That's why those are the _only_ things we're replacing. Boyd managed to create white blood cells, but we're not using those. We can't be sure."

He let out a long breath and hung his head, trying not to let this influx of knowledge panic him. But it _did_. It scared the shit out of him to think about what they were messing with, how they were dumping things into her body and hoping it came out right.

And this was only phase one?

"Kate."

"Believe me, I know. I get it. They won't divide and cause cancer because they can't. It's only red blood cells - which, by the way, Threkeld thinks was why your father focused on those. No nucleus in red blood cells so nothing can get messed up with mutations as you go along. I mean, of course, those red blood cells had to have been mutated in himself, to start with, but that was starting from the marrow-"

"Too much, Kate."

She took a breath. Gave him a crooked smile. "I know. You don't want theory. You want fact. Which is half our problem, isn't it? I just get - sucked up in the possibilities and you just want to be told what to do. But I want to know all of it, everything."

"Really?" he growled. "I hadn't noticed."

She smacked his arm. "Our kid is the product of this stuff. And you nearly died. So. You know. Lay off, asshole."

He choked on a laugh, feeling somehow more at ease with this eager version of Beckett. The eagerness was more like Kate. The eagerness was excitement with life and what it could bring them, it was the thrill of a mission or that old high that she'd gotten from a weird murder case. She liked the puzzle, and it was part of what drove her, and seeing her eyes shine and her teeth on her bottom lip made this all easier to take.

Incrementally.

"Baby, you know I love you."

Her eyes jerked back to his, her mouth dropping open. "I - I know that." Her head tilted. "But?"

"No but." He nodded to her plate. "You done? I think James wants out of confinement."

She seemed to be wary. "Yeah, I'm finished, I'm good." Her gaze searched his. He didn't know what she saw there, but she nodded to herself. "Want to try the park on the way back? Let them both run."

"I think that's good. And we can talk. This is only phase one. Park will give us a little more privacy."

"Yes, of course," she said quickly, straightening up. That good-girl face again.

He should've known all of this. He had thought, when he'd taken over their nutrition and intake/outtake, that he was on top of things, that he had this under control.

But he'd ignored the research. He'd turned a blind eye to Kate's excitement. It was his own damn fault if he couldn't keep up, if he didn't understand.

He wouldn't make that mistake again.

As he got to his feet, he realized he was furious, and he had no direction for his fury, and he didn't want it coming out on her.

* * *

It had begun to mist by the time they got to the park. There were enough pine trees that the paths were covered, so none of them minded an occasional drop. There were only a few other solitary individuals, each staking out benches, and the air had a hush to it that did Kate some good.

Sasha had the dog run to herself, but both dog and wolf were lonesome, staring at each other from either side of the fence. Kate gave up on keeping them apart and opened the gate. Castle called to James and herded him around the fence and over the threshold, where the boy squealed and ran for his packmate.

Kate watched them, the way Sasha nipped at James, how her son clapped and stumbled towards the dog. When he was running, he had a fluidity of movement that belied his slow and halting steps. When he was still, he seemed to be listening to Sasha, the sounds that no one else could hear. She changed his diapers and woke him in the mornings and yet his thoughts were a mystery to her. He was his own person.

She had heard Jenny Ryan say _I love him best when he's sleeping_ , with that roll of her eyes as she consoled her infant son. Kate Beckett had not ever been confronted with that truth of motherhood, either because her husband was the bullying kind who took over before she could get too frustrated, or because she didn't always care enough to be a more concerned parent.

Either way, she had an easy baby who was becoming a sweet little boy, and she was going to treasure every second she had of him. Most likely, she wasn't going to be the kind of mother he deserved. Most likely, she was going to fuck up when it came to having the right answers or being a model of healthy relationships-

But she loved him.

She was in love with him, this beautiful boy with the shy smile and the old-man eyes and the love of oceans and trees and dogs. She was in love with his inability to walk without careening, his constant running. She was in love with the clear grey of his eyes, and the crooked set of his ears - just like her own.

The belly laugh. The bounce on his toes when he wanted her to pick him up. The tilt of his head against her shoulder as the rest of his body hunkered into her for comfort. When he was tired and needy, they called him Squishy. When he was amusing, he was Jay-P, the jungle parasite they'd picked up during a time of such grief and anger and frustration that a miracle like this boy was entirely astonishing. A gift.

She sighed. A hand passed down her spine and she straightened, turning to Castle.

His eyebrows were up, a question she knew the answer to. She leaned against his side, threaded her arm through his at the fence. "I love him." She squeezed her husband's arm. "Best when he's sleeping, best when he's running. Best when he's crying to play with the pots and pans. Best when he's refusing to go to bed at night. Best when he's in my arms. Best when-"

"I get it." Castle chuckled, his head tilting against hers, cheek knocking her temple. "I get it. You love him. I do too."

"I'm certain I'm not the best for him-"

"Shut your mouth."

Her lips curled in a smile, watching James clutch a fistful of Sasha's fur. "I'm certain he deserves the world, the moon and the stars, and I can't give him much more than myself. Pieces of me, at that."

"I'm certain you're at least a sun-"

"Hush, Castle, I'm trying to talk to you about something."

"I know," he said. She heard the sigh in his voice, the resignation that she'd done something without him, yet again. His arm left her and he turned, forcing her to release him as well. He was leaning against the fence, but he reclaimed her hand and tugged her away, heading for a cluster of evergreens.

She had stalled out now that he was looking at her. Change of scenery helped, though she saw Castle's eyes on the dog run where the two were playing, and it made things easier.

"The way I love him. And you," she started, her thumb stroking his. "The only way I know to love. I know it scares you."

"It does. Actually. But it's also the thing that makes me feel safe."

She shot him a startled look, her mouth opening. Nothing came out.

He shrugged. "All that intensity focused on me, for me. No one ever wanted me before, not like you do. Black... his way was about him. Your way is about-" He sucked in a breath, winced. "Me. And yeah, yeah that's scary as shit too. How you fling your life away for mine."

She tilted her head back, felt the mist sifting down through the fir trees. Her lashes left faint dew against her cheeks. "Yeah," she whispered. "It's scary to me too."

He squeezed her hand and released again. "I think we're fighting."

"I think we are," she said, lowering her chin and looking at him again. "You're scared I'll die."

"You're scared too. And that's what terrifies me. Writing yourself out of our story."

"Not on purpose." She pursed her lips to let air through, tried to keep her heart from beating too fast. "I'm scared that I leave you... lessened." She shook her head at her poor word choice. "No, I mean. I'm not afraid to die. I'm afraid of how I leave you and James and... how it's left."

"A great gaping _fucking_ hole," he said harshly.

She nodded. It always felt precarious when he was angry with her and she wasn't angry back. She wasn't angry because she knew she should've pressed the issue, she should have told him more, anything, as it had come up. So that he wouldn't have been ambushed with it.

"That's what I'm afraid of," she said simply. "You if I'm gone. James."

"It would be a fucking nightmare. And no way to wake." A shuddering breath. "And he'd never know you."

She shivered at the breaking in his voice. She had to turn her back on the fence, press her eyes closed. Lightning shot off behind her lids. "I don't want to do that to you. I _won't_ do that to you. Or him, not to him. I love him so much."

His hands clutched her shoulders, dropped.

"I love you more," she whispered. The last of her truth.

"No, you don't," he croaked. "Different. Not more, just different."

"Yeah. That." She lifted her gaze to the trees to keep from crying.

She could hear him kicking pine cones through the underbrush, feel his gathering frustration. She finally looked at him.

Start again. "It's a thing - shit. No. Not a thing. I'm sorry. Look, you know I don't have _words_ , Rick. I don't have those pretty persuasive words that make everything better. You're gonna have to translate the shit I say so that it doesn't suck."

He grunted.

She hated when he was angry and had every right to be; she hated this feeling like she was at the bottom of a well and he was at the top and she had to convince him not to jump down in here with her. _Get a rope, asshole._

Desperate. She was desperate and she loathed this feeling.

"Talk, Kate. Just fucking talk."

"Okay," she said. She backed up until her spine hit a trunk and she scraped a hand through her hair and held it off her face. "I told you in Colombia - or rather, Boyd told you? - about those designer proteins called TALENs."

He nodded shortly. "Genome editing."

"You and Echo both," she murmured, sifting her thoughts before she spoke again. "Cutting and repairing genes, repairing DNA. But not just repairing, also turning on dormant genes, kinds that can fix blood disorders. That's the part Threkeld and Boyd were so excited about."

His eyes were burning. She didn't know what came next; she always had to think it through, find the right words. Why had she found interrogation so easy but this - _this_ \- so damn difficult? It was a failing that she couldn't even get her husband to understand her.

"Threkeld says your hemoglobins are similar in function to fetal hemoglobins, very close, but a third type. A hybrid. Adult hemoglobins can't do what fetal ones can, but yours do. Like, for one, carry more oxygen."

"Right, this is stuff I know."

She blew out her breath. "Okay, but TALENs, again, those are lab-created. Proteins that do a job we need to get done - and that job is phase two. It's a two-step system. Bone marrow-"

"Bone marrow?" he startled, ears going red. He looked furious. "What are they doing to your bone marrow. I thought this was a fucking transfusion."

"A bone marrow transfusion, Rick."

His jaw dropped. She hated herself; she wanted to cry.

He roared. "Are you talking about a _bone marrow transplant_?"

She shook her head, her breath stuttering in her lungs. Her hands were shaking. She never did this right. "A transfusion. A - a transplant would be next, if this doesn't take." She saw his face and rushed through. "But it _will_ take. It's worked every damn time, on every model and test they've run. I swear. God. Castle, please-"

"Don't fucking beg me," he growled. He stalked away from her and came back, but still she saw how his eyes stayed on the dog run, how _good_ a father he was. He rubbed both hands down his face. "Just talk. Talk."

"That's the first part," she pushed on. Just get it out, like he said. Get it out of her. "The second part is the-"

"You didn't finish the first part, Beckett."

She thought back, blushed. "Damn. First part is the TALENs. They cut genes, repair genes. So these specialized proteins have already been made, exactly for me, for my body, my genes. They cut where we've told them to cut, and they repair what we tell them to repair."

"The scratched places, you mean."

"Yes." She paced away from the tree and turned, sought out her son in the dog run, fenced as he was with Sasha. Safe. "It's like that." She glanced back to Castle, pointing at their son inside the fence. "Things in my blood. The boy inside the dog run. It's not bad, but it's not how it's supposed to be. So the TALEN is the hand that lifts the latch and opens the gate."

Castle looked stunned when she turned back to him. He was staring at the dog run. "Okay. What creates the gate?"

"The fence is... DNA. The gate is already there. Every section of the fence is a potential gate, Rick."

"Okay." His voice was raspy, and when she looked, his eyes had that same sandpaper look. Too raw, too rough. "Okay. Second part."

"My fence metaphor - simile - breaks down a little," she murmured. "Second part is flooding my marrow with the exogenous DNA which will be incorporated into my own DNA via something called the Cas system."

"Well, fuck, I have no idea what that means."

"I had to do a lot of practice memorizing before that came out smoothly," she admitted. "Exogenous DNA is just - outside DNA, DNA that doesn't exist inside my current genome."

"They want to make you a hybrid."

She was surprised he'd gotten there so quickly, but she shouldn't be. He was incredibly intelligent, especially when it came to her health. "I didn't pick up on that part at first, but yes. On some level, my bone marrow stem cells will be hybridized. The first phase to flood my system with those new red blood cells - the ones they've created - and this second phase to be sure that my own marrow creates more like them."

He studied her face. As if expecting her to obfuscate. "Where does this other DNA come from?"

She lifted her lips and watched James for a moment, turned back to Rick. "From him, from you. It's what they used to create the lab red blood cells. This spare DNA is left lying around in my bone marrow, the TALENs having lifted the latch and allowed-"

"The boy to come inside the dog run," Castle finished. "That's what you're really saying. It's not that the boy is already there. It's that he isn't, and we kept throwing things at your fence, and it's battered all to shit."

"And the boy will keep the dog from breaking down the gate," she mused.

He sighed. "Yeah? No? I don't know. You're right; the metaphor breaks down. But I understand a little better, more than I did."

"It has to be done," she told him softly. "The fence is all battered to shit, the original dog DNA is pushing up against the gates..."

"The metaphor is busted, Beckett. You're just making it worse."

She nodded. His jaw was working. She would send him the articles from Boyd, the flagged information from Threkeld where he translated Boyd's excitement, and the emails from Logan where he broke down both of those doctors' research into laymen's terms.

He would catch on quickly. Her husband was incredibly smart when he wanted to know, especially when it came to her.

"I should've known this before now," Castle said, breaking into her thoughts.

She let out a trembling noise but nodded. She felt like shit and she would for a while. Until she felt forgiven. Her own issues to deal with.

"I'm a fucking idiot," he growled. "I should have been _listening_ to you. God damn it. How do I not ever learn?"

"No, no," she murmured. "Castle."

"Yes. _Yes._ I'm the worst husband to you-"

" _Rick._ "

"I've been deplorable. I haven't been paying attention." He snarled and stalked off, practically yelling. "I've let you down, let down our son with my fucking denial and ignorance. I promised this wouldn't happen again after Paris and I lost focus-"

"No," she snapped, jerking towards him. "You've been _hyper_ -focused. If anything, you've been too locked in."

He snarled something incomprehensible.

She caught him by the biceps, gripped to keep him with her. "You do everything for us, Rick. You took over the nutrition, you've been intense about every vitamin and mineral in and out of our systems. You keep track of how much we get. So that James grows healthy, that he grows at all. And so I never achieve toxicity again. You made that work."

His nostrils flared; he wouldn't look at her. "I make you breakfast. I fucking make _breakfast._ Oh, and I do the laundry. Pin a fucking medal on my chest."

"Stop. You do _everything_ for us. You're on top of the electrolytes and nutrition so completely I never have to even think about it. I'm never afraid for what I eat, for how much I'm working out, for the baby."

"But all this time you're taking on the weight of the whole fucking world, trying to figure out Boyd and Threkeld's research and how it can save our fucking lives. And what am I doing? Scrambling _eggs._ "

"Would you stop demeaning what you do for us? You do all of that for us, Rick. You save our lives. So I can at least do this much. It's a partnership, it's always been."

"Fucking scrambled eggs and clean underwear. Like a fucking maid."

She sighed, bowed her head. She didn't know how to get to him. "Yes, fine. And you give excellent service, Rick."

He grunted, finally looked at her.

She saw where that had gotten to him in ways nothing else had. She hadn't exactly meant it that way, as a tease, but she'd fucking run with it. "You give me excellent service, you know." She dropped her voice and ran her hands down his chest, rubbed her knuckles at the bulge between them. "You're my hot, rugged boy-toy. You-"

A voice pierced their intensity. "Excuse me. Ex _cuse_ me."

Kate turned, astonished to have been interrupted in what felt like one of the most important conversations of her life.

An older woman was standing by the dogrun, fingers clawed around a leash which was attached to a terrier. "Excuse me." Her voice held a smoker's hack. "Your _child_ is in the dog run."

"Yes," Kate said, her brain unable to switch gears. "I put him there."

"Don't you see me standing here," the woman snapped. "How absolutely rude. This is a public park. It's not your personal playpen."

Castle pushed forward.

Kate clutched at him, but he didn't do what her panicky heart expected. He bypassed the curled-lip woman and reached the gate, lifted the latch and stepped inside. The woman was giving Kate a withering, judgmental glare. Castle whistled sharply and Sasha - who had already been on guard because of the old hag's presence - bolted for Castle.

Her husband snapped his fingers and James ran after.

Kate stood where she was, struck dumb by the woman's eyes burning a hole through her chest for her deplorable motherhood.

She'd never had a stranger give such a scathing criticism of her behavior. And yet, the woman's nastiness barely affected her. It hadn't struck her heart. Her husband's fear, his self-recrimination, her own nightmares of the gaping hole she'd leave in their lives - what was one woman's judgmental idiocy compared to those things?

James ran to Castle, and Castle crouched down to catch him, but the boy veered at the last second and ran through the gate after Sasha, crashed into the dog instead.

Kate laughed.

The woman scowled and huffed and jerked the leash, stalked off muttering to herself _fucking bitch._

Wow.

Castle's eyes followed the woman's retreat.

"Uck doe!" James crowed. The only curse words he knew.

"I love you guys," Kate chuckled, her feet moving now. She pried James off the dog and hoisted him onto her hip, kissed his solemn face. He'd caught the tenure of their mood, or maybe the woman's nastiness, but he was smiling shyly when she quit kissing those cheeks.

Castle approached with the dog on the leash, shook his head. "Let's get out of here."

"I thought you were going to punch her."

"Why?" He took James from her arms, handed her the leash.

She didn't have an answer. He'd been angry. But he wasn't stupid; he wouldn't have put them in danger by making a spectacle, and he knew how to defuse a tense situation. He knew exactly what to do.

He had never let them down.

She damn well wouldn't either.

* * *

Check out my Amazon author page (Laura Bontrager) for my new book **Formerly Known As**.


	6. Chapter 6

**Close Encounters 31**

* * *

"You're a crazy little wolf," Castle muttered, knocking his knuckles against the top of James's head. "What's gotten into you?"

"Uh!" James lifted both arms and grunted again, bouncing on his toes to be picked up. Castle lowered the tablet to the dining room table and bent over to swing James into his arms.

He was catching up on the last six months worth of research on blood disorders, but he could do with a break. "What's up. Why you running around like a fool?"

"He escaped me." Kate came through from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea towel. "Unloaded the dish washer. Do we have a load in the basement?"

Castle squinted. "Can't remember, but if so, it'd be in the dryer."

"Hope so. Otherwise they've soured." She made a face at him and leaned in, kissed James first, then him. Her lips were dry, and he knew she was keeping herself busy, trying not to think about what would happen. "I'll go down and check. Keep him?"

"I've got him," he murmured, used to the way they tag-teamed the kid when they had things they needed to be working on. He palmed her cheek before she could withdraw, cupping the side of her face. "I'm not mad at you, love. Mad at myself."

"Don't," she sighed, pulling away from him.

But Castle grabbed her by the collar of her shirt before she could go, tugged her back until she was trapped. "I will. I will do. Do whatever it is you're telling me not to do. Isn't that our problem?"

James squirmed in his arm and Castle shoved the kid towards her so that she had to take him.

She huffed, catching the boy. "What do you mean our problem?"

"You can't stand for me to be less in your eyes. Well, I'm less, Beckett. I made a fucking huge mistake even though I swore an oath not to lose sight of it, of _you_. Dying in my arms, unable to protect you even from my own damn father. I have a fucking wolf snarling on my chest and I still can't manage to keep the most important thing in front of me."

Kate was staring at him, completely astonished. She absently touched the back of James's head to keep him from squirming and the baby immediately went still.

"Rick."

He gave her the baby and rubbed a hand down his face, backed off. He was too intense when it came to her. She was too intense when it came to him. Fine. That was their love. He had a fucking wolf on his chest because of it. They had a wolf in their arms because of it.

They had this _life_ because of it.

"After Paris," he halted, leaning against the edge of the dining room. James had laid his head down on her shoulder, his fingers were playing in her hair. It made the words quieter out of Castle's mouth, quieter in his head. "You got better. And that was hard work, a real effort, you pushing me to let you push yourself in the rehab, trying to get your strength back when we weren't sure you'd ever..."

"You said on the island I might not ever get back to normal," she said.

He hung his head. "I did. I thought it might never-"

"But I'm strong now."

 _For how long?_ But he knew if he said it, she'd take it the wrong way. She'd feel like she had to be better, stronger than she was. She'd kill herself trying be something for him he didn't fucking need.

But the truth of it was - how long? This thing they were going to try, how long? If it didn't take, next was a bone marrow transplant. And after that?

"I thought it was fixed," he said. "I _wanted_ it to be fixed."

"Me," she said. Her hand was splayed at James's back. "You wanted me to be fixed."

The truth was uglier than he knew. "I wanted... you. I just want you."

She tilted her cheek to the top of James's head, closed her eyes as she swayed there with the baby.

"I wanted you to be better, done. Cured of me and my father and the ways I fucked you over."

Her eyes flared open. So did her mouth.

"Let me talk. Give me this. This confession."

She redirected, kissing the side of James's face instead.

"I wanted you cured. Of me. And to have me at the same time. And being in denial about the ways you're not cured kept me from having to admit - to admit that there might be no cure. That we can get you stable, but you'll never be normal again. That I - that it's a lifelong condition."

"You better be a lifelong condition. I will hunt you down, Rick Castle."

He lifted his eyes to her, found her furious and indignant and all kinds of erotic. Why they loved each other, how they loved each other, that intensity and rage for each other. Defended to the death. It was hot, it was necessary, but it meant they reached places like this.

"Well, there we are," she said, shifting the baby in her arms. She pushed James into his chest and let go, and Castle had to jerk his hands up and catch the boy.

Kate stalked away from him. Through the kitchen to the basement door, where she shoved Sasha with her foot and stomped down the stairs.

James made a dissatisfied sound and leaned out for the floor.

"No," Castle told him. And himself. "No, we're both going after her. Come on, wolf. She can't hit me if you're in the way."

This he could fix.

* * *

Kate didn't lift her eyes when she heard him on the basement steps. She shoved laundry into the dryer - he had left it in the washing machine, the idiot - and she tried not to react.

"Lifelong condition," he snorted. Thudded down the stairs. "Mommy's crazy if she thinks that's a question."

She looked up. Of course she did, for both of them. James was leaning out from Castle's arms. Grabby hands. She threw the last of the laundry into the dryer, twisted the timer, shut the door, and started the load. All of that was possibly much louder and more aggressive than needed.

"Did it sour?"

"Hope not," she admitted, shrugged. "Mostly your boxers. What do I care?"

"You care," he said, lowering James to the floor. Letting him loose. "You're the one who always has her hands in my boxers. And her nose. At the risk of sounding indecent. I do like your nose in my crotch."

She ground her teeth and ignored him, plucking at the fresh laundry in the basket. She had no intention of folding any of it; she never did. And of course, Castle came to the dryer and stood side by side with her, taking the bedsheet out of her fingers to fold it.

She stepped back, blew out a breath. James was inspecting the workout gear, trying to drag a free weight towards himself. She debated taking it away, couldn't find the energy to involve herself in that argument. How many times had they run interference? But the kid was curious. Nosy. He'd smack himself in the head, and then he'd learn.

They always learned. And they were strong enough to take the hit.

"Alright, so we're still in a fight."

"You're the one who thinks I'm too damaged to-"

"I didn't say that, and that's your issue, not mine." He must have seen her face because he held up the fitted sheet as if in submission. "Walk across broken glass for you, Kate. You don't believe you're worth the gashes in my feet - that heal in a matter of hours, you know, and even if they didn't, I'd still do it. Because you _are_ worth-"

James gave a sharp cry. As if astonished and furious. They both turned and found James tumbled into a workout mat, bleeding from his mouth, staring up at them. The free weight was over his calf, pinning him.

Kate moved for the boy, pushing Castle aside. She stooped before James, eased the weight off his leg. "That's what happens," she chided softly, rubbing her thumb over the little calf. Not even bruised.

"Mama," he scolded. As if it was her fault.

Maybe it was. "I tried to tell you. Have told you. But you don't listen."

"Like someone else I know."

She glanced back at Castle, gave him the finger, but he only laughed. When she turned back to James, he was pushing up off the floor, the blood pink with drool down his chin. She resisted the urge to pluck him up and cradle him like a baby, and instead she used the collar of his shirt to wipe the blood. If she didn't panic, he wouldn't know there was any reason to panic.

"No tears?" Castle said from behind her.

"I think he knows it's his own damn fault." She ran her thumb carefully along his bottom lip, winced in sympathy. "Your tooth, huh?"

"Bit his lip?"

"Smashed the weight into his mouth and it cut, yeah." She thumbed his lip and peeked closer, even as James tried to duck away from her. "Already stopped bleeding."

"Stopped bleeding," Castle echoed. She heard the stupid pride in his voice, had to admit she felt the same. This kid was better off than both of them, and that was the point. That James would do better, be better, have a life he chose, not one chosen for him.

She blew out a breath to keep the pinch out of her throat, gathered James to her chest and stood. He gripped her shirt with tight fists, laid his head to her shoulder. He hadn't cried, he hadn't whined for her, but he did want her.

He did want her.

Castle passed a hand down James's back. "We love you, Kate," he sighed. "We might suck at it, but you can't say we don't."

"I know," she sighed. "And you don't suck at it." A kiss against James's cheek before she bent over to lower him to the floor. But James clung to her, whined at her neck, wouldn't let go. She straightened up, kept him. "Can we... not keep doing this? I don't want to fight."

Castle nodded. "Then let's not fight. But you still have to talk to me."

She twisted away from him, taking James with her toward the stairs. She didn't want to _talk_ ; she didn't want to keep having this conversation. It went nowhere.

But as she mounted the bottom step, he called out to her. "Kate, isn't this why? This is how we get here. To this place."

Because she was always avoiding it, because running up against _his_ wall made her shut down. (No, it made her go around his wall. It made her go behind his back. Shit.) Kate turned and looked at him, sank down to the landing with James in her arms. He had smeared a pinkish blood trail against her shirt, but he was crawling out of her lap to play on the stairs above her.

Another no-no. And he knew it. "Look at that sly grin he's giving you," Castle said, settling on the bottom step, leaning back on his elbows as if to trap James. And herself. "Wolf, you fall down those stairs and it's gonna hurt a lot more."

"Bet his bones wouldn't break," she countered, letting go of the boy entirely.

Castle watched. "Bet you'd know all about it."

She chewed on the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. Because of course she knew all about it. James was climbing her ribs and now her shoulder to also climb the stairs. "Are you inviting Martha to his birthday party?"

"I am. Have. Invites have already gone out. You saw them. And you can't change the subject, Kate. Talk to me. You're pissed, you think that I won't - you're afraid I won't love you if you're an experiment? I love my kid, he's an experiment."

Her jaw worked. An _experiment._ How-

"Beckett. If this doesn't take. If the transfusion thing doesn't work and next is a transplant," he started, leaning in and snagging her by the knee. "Kate. If next it's a transplant-?"

"Bone marrow transplant," she said mechanically, feeling James's toes digging into her neck where he was just above her on the stairs. Her feet were flat on the little landing where the staircase turned and dumped them out into the basement. She could nudge against Castle's neck from here. "My bone marrow stem cells will be wiped out with treatment, and then a synthetic bone implant will be-"

"Synthetic _bone_?"

She looked at him. He wasn't pissed; he was astonished. She nodded. "University of California, San Diego. A hydrogel matrix. Six months ago, successful in mice. It grows new marrow stem cells." She winced but he didn't explode. "So yeah, I'm an experiment, Rick. And the thing is - when you came to me, you hated that very thing. You _hated_ being an experiment, you wanted nothing to do with-"

"Babe." His fingers squeezed so hard on her knee that she twitched. And fell silent. Babe?

He squeezed again and she looked up at him. He was laughing at her?

"That was a lifetime ago," he said, lips curling. "Sweetheart, a _lifetime_ ago. I have so much more than that now. Look what you've made of me, for me."

She let out a breath.

"Even if this thing never takes, love, you're a hybrid," he said. "A one of kind of experiment." He leaned in and crawled up the stairs to the landing, his hands planted on either side of her hips at the step. "Chimera. The only one in existence." His lips lightly touched hers. "And mine."

She shivered and caught the back of his neck, her mouth parting. His kiss was electric, and the currents slid through her like water. Lovely. Full of lights.

When he spoke, she hadn't even realized he'd stopped kissing her. "I didn't want this to be hard for you," he whispered. "This life. I wanted to take it all on my own shoulders, because you deserve more. The world. And better than me. But guess what? I'm what you get. So let's stop fighting, and let's learn to do better."

She kicked him for that - _learn to do better,_ the asshole - but she still had him by the back of his neck. "Are you watching my baby, Rick Castle? Because he's playing on the stairs."

"Got my eye on him."

"Good. Stay vigilant." She scraped her nails at his neck and gripped his ear, hard, pulled him into her. She laid back against the stairs, bringing him down against her, body to body, warm flesh, hard. Yet forgiving.

"I love you," he murmured. "I just don't want you to die."

"Because of you?" she said, kissing softly at his cheek. The side of his nose. "I won't die because of you."

"No," he sighed. His lips were razing her own, back and forth across the raw skin. "No. Ever. I don't want you to ever die."

She breathed out, wished the boy wasn't playing on the stairs so that Castle might do something a little more wild than kiss her. "Do my best. Keep your eye on the baby."

"He's almost a year. And he's super. He'll be fine." His fingers were unbuttoning her pants. "I don't need to-"

"Jail him," she gasped. Her body was eager, eager, eager-

"This first." His mouth at her neck. How could he possibly be keeping an eye on- "Oh, shit. Sasha."

She jerked, turning to look, afraid for James, how could she have let-

"Oh." She blinked. "Sasha." The dog had come to the open basement door and caught James by the the waistband of his little jeans. James, who had actually made it up the stairs, was being dragged back from the top step.

"Well," Castle breathed, shifting above her.

Sasha tugged James across the threshold, the boy giggling and clinging to her fur, and then the door was inexplicably slammed shut. A tail? Surely, Sasha hadn't used her paw.

Kate stared. "I feel like we've been shown up by our dog."

"She is well-trained."

"Damn."

Castle wriggled his fingers.

Kate moaned, clutching at his wrist, so damn strong and powerful under her grip. He was going to do it anyway. Oh God. He was-

"Sh-shit," she gasped. "I could get used to being - being a one of a kind experiment."

"Mine," he husked, and set about making her beg.

* * *

Check out my Amazon author page (Laura Bontrager) for my new book **Formerly Known As**.


	7. Chapter 7

**Close Encounters 31**

* * *

Kate woke on the morning of her husband's surgery much earlier than she needed to.

And of course, his side of the bed was empty.

She hated that. But he always tried to be here when she woke, tried to crawl back into bed from working in the office, sometimes with papers or the laptop, sometimes the baby against his chest. She had just woken before he'd managed to crawl in.

She was dreading today. It had been all worked out, planned to the nth degree, every last sedative, the locals for his fingers, the lidocaine nerve block, anything that might set off his system, and then on top of that, the copious X-rays of his metacarpals, the two surgeons who would do the actual breaking and resetting of his hand.

They had discussed pins and plates and screws, they had been thoroughly read-in on Castle's quick healing rate, the exact measurements of how much new bone growth they could expect over minute-by-minute rates, and the-

"I can feel you worrying." Castle bounced the mattress and she gasped, turning only in time to get a faceful of baby boy. She grunted in surprise, arms wrapping around James, and he ducked his head to her neck, burrowing in her pillow.

Kate rubbed his back, glancing up to Castle. "He wasn't asleep?"

"Nope, hasn't slept since four." He dropped to the bed beside her. "Stop worrying, Kate."

"Wolf, you're not sleeping?" she murmured, kissing his ear while he squirmed.

"Neither were you," Castle said. He was leaning against the headboard now, but he dropped his crooked hand on James's back. "You woke all night just as much as he did. In fact, every damn time you woke, you looked right at me like you were about to cry, and then he did."

"He did what?"

"He cried instead of you," Castle said, his mouth twitching. "Every time I went to get him, he whined at me and fell back asleep. Crying in your place."

"I'm not crying," she huffed, rubbing her hand down James's back. The boy stirred and his mouth rubbed her collarbone before he slumped against her once more. "I'm not sad, I promise. Were you sad, little wolf?"

"Think you're the one who's sad," Castle answered, knocking down into her. His fingers bumped over hers, tripping up her soothing of the boy. "I understand, Kate. You're worried about me. You've spent the last few weeks trying to make everything perfect, line it all up, so that I won't want for a thing." His eyebrow went up in confirmation.

"Shit," she whispered, tilting her head back. "I have, haven't I? Not that I think you'll need it, or that I will? God, I think you'll need it, and that I will too."

"You're not much for glass half full, I know. But you're not going to die, you're not going to be - to be _handicapped_ by this, and neither will I. That's not who we are, and I won't let it happen."

She cupped her hand at the back of James's skull, his heavy, sleep-warm body melting into hers. "It's nice to say that, nice to think we have control of that, but-"

"Woman, look where we _are_. What we have. Wolf at your chest is a fucking miracle. All of this is a fucking miracle. God. Where I'd be if I didn't have you?"

"Yeah, see... don't want either of us going back there," she said, but she was smiling again. James whimpered her name and clutched a fistful of her hair, as if complaining about her talking while he was trying to sleep.

"We won't go back there, because we're already here." Castle leaned in over her and kissed James's ear, a noisy thing that made the boy giggle, woke him up a little. "James makes us different. And his birthday party is in two days and you haven't asked me."

"Is your mother coming?"

"She is."

Kate grinned and sat up, clutching the baby to her chest, knocking her shoulder into Rick's as he shifted for her. They both used the headboard to prop themselves up, and James huffed and wriggled out of her arms to crawl down between them.

"She is," Kate echoed. Nudged her knee into the baby to topple him. James squawked and tried to stand, probably to escape them, but Castle hooked an arm around the kid's knees and brought him down again.

James was laughing as Castle grinned back at her. "She is. I had to call her, like you said-"

"Rick. When did you call her?" she gasped. It was her turn to frustrate the baby, and she tugged a twisted sheet around his ankle.

"I had to call this morning."

"It's barely morning."

He shrugged. "She said something about a walk of shame." He passed the sheet over James's face and the baby was practically choking he was laughing so hard.

They both grinned. "So she's coming."

"She's coming." Castle shrugged. She knew he didn't want to hope too much. His mother had been infamously flighty, and the times they'd extended olive branches, she'd either forgotten or blown up their plans with some crazy implausible story. Or an emotional manipulation the likes of which...

"Alright." She poked James's belly and he keeled over, falling on his back and calling for Sasha with that peculiar hushing sound.

"Sasha!" Castle shouted down the hall, helping him out. "Come get your packmate."

"Breakfast?" she said, sliding her legs out from the bed as the dog came noisily up the stairs. "Have you showered? The baby?"

"I haven't. He hasn't either."

Kate snorted. Sasha came through to the bed. "I meant has he had breakfast." She stood and chucked her pillow at the baby, popping him in the face, whisking it away to see his grin. "Wolf, have you had your bananas yet?"

"No!"

"Ha," she laughed, leaning in over him and kissing that emphatic face. "Well, let's encourage Daddy to make us bananas and coffee. Mmm, you want coffee?"

"No!" Sasha gave a low woof in agreement and jumped onto the bed.

Castle chuckled and stood from the mattress, swatting at Sasha. "Down, girl. We're getting him. James, you'll get your breakfast, and Mommy will get her coffee. Kate-?"

"I'm showering now. Too bad you can't join me." She leaned in and kissed his cheek, rubbing Sasha between her ears, two birds one stone. Castle reached in and scooped James off the bed, set him on his feet.

James went running, Sasha went running after him, and Kate assumed the baby gate was up on the top of the stairs. But she leaned out to look anyway.

Yeah. Closed.

"Hey."

She turned back to Castle.

He slid his arms around her waist and tugged her into him, his broken and mangled hand coming up to tangle in the hair at her nape. "I love you. I'm gonna be fine - you've seen to it."

She nodded, the lump in her throat. "You are, I have. You are."

"Be confident, baby. And - uh - think about what we're getting our kid for his first birthday."

She stumbled back, a laugh choking in her throat. "You didn't buy him a birthday present?"

"I kinda forgot until this morning when my mother asked what we'd gotten him so she wouldn't replicate gifts."

"Oh. Well." She grimaced and shrugged. "I'll figure something out while you're under."

* * *

"He has like a thousand balls," Kate said, rolling her eyes.

Castle shifted on the uncomfortable bed. His side was strapped to a weird platform and Logan was shaving his arm for surgery. "Okay, but I mean some kind of set."

"I think my dad is getting him sports-related things," Kate shrugged. She juggled the boy who was trying to catch Logan's razor, pulling him out of reach. "No, wolf, it'll slice up your little fingers. Logan?"

"Why are you asking me?" he squeaked. The blade went a little jagged, but it didn't cut Castle.

"Because you have two boys." He flexed his forearm and saw the wet shiver of shaving gel.

Logan was pointing the razor at Kate now. "I have two boys with very weird tastes. I'm not your guy."

"Weird tastes is good," she answered. "We want him well-rounded. Castle already promised ballet lessons."

" _Dance_ lessons," he corrected. "Give him the chance to choose which dance he likes best. Don't go pawning ballet off on him until he's sampled all of his available-"

"Did you give him drugs already?" Kate asked. "He's a little loopy."

"Yeah, I had to start the IV in the other arm, so I went ahead and gave him the first one."

"Oh, but we still have four hours-"

"No," Logan said, pointing now towards the clock on the wall. "We have two and a half."

"Shit," she breathed, juggling James again. Her face looked washed out, as if losing track of time while arguing with him over James's birthday present was somehow unforgivable.

"Logan, finish scraping all the hair off my arm, will ya? Stop waving that thing around. My kid is faster than you think."

Logan flushed and shook his head, but he came back to Castle's hospital bed and resumed shaving.

Castle watched Kate. She was chewing on her bottom lip, no longer distracted. "Hey," he said, drawing her attention back to his face. "Two fucking surgeons. It's covered. You take the kid to the play room, see if Boyd has invented any new crazy puzzles for him."

She sighed, angling James away from the bed. "Yeah. I know you kinda hate it when he does that."

"I do. But hey, let them test the kid's puzzle abilities. I shouldn't care. We know he's a good problem-solver, our damn baby locks never last."

She sighed and dumped James on the bed at his uninjured side. "But you do care. Because you're a good daddy." Apparently she'd given up trying to keep the boy away. James chortled with glee and lunged for the razor, forcing Castle to wrap his free arm around the kid and wrestle him down.

Of course, James thought it was a game. He giggled and burrowed into Castle's side, tried to circumvent his father's grip.

Kate sank down to the stool beside his bed, her fingers circling James's ankle. "I just - what would we do without you?"

"Hey, stop it." He crushed James at his ribs. "Kate. It's some fucking _fingers_. It's not like I'm getting a bone marrow transfusion that might give me cancer or otherwise malign my red blood cells."

Logan snorted, flinging shave gel from the ends of the razor into the little pan. "He's got you there. Though, I mean, you _do_ know she can't get cancer from the lab-grown red blood cells, right? No nuclei."

He sighed and rolled his eyes at Logan.

Kate sat up a bit straighter and nodded to Logan. "See? I wasn't lying to you. Or even massaging the truth."

"Didn't say you were. Besides, I've read the literature now, and I read every damn email that went back and forth between you guys. I've caught up on the research from the last year. Even Boyd's crazy talk. And I'm pretty well-versed in the IARPA's latest program developments, which I bet _you_ didn't even know existed."

She gave him a blank look.

"Ha!" he crowed, fist-pumping. But it came off clumsy and he grunted, grabbing for the side of the bed. Accidentally knocked into James on the way. "Whoa. Shit. Sorry, wolf, sorry, couldn't get you out of the way."

Kate leaned in and smoothed the hair back from his forehead. Suddenly his eyes wouldn't focus. She kissed his eyelash. "Getting dizzy there, super spy?"

He had James trapped under his arm. "Get him 'fore the bed spins off."

"Yeah, okay, I've got him. You're okay." Kate was somehow leaning in right over him, so close, weight on his chest. "You're okay, Rick."

"I know." He stared up at her, saw James reaching for him. Castle mounted an expedition upwards, caught the baby's shoulder with a hand. Reached up to cup the back of his neck. "Be good for her. She's better than all of us."

"Castle," he was chided, but his eyelids were crashing. "Castle. What's IARPA?"

"Later, baby. Tell ya later." But a voice was answering her, he thought it was Boyd. He was tired, he was really tired. His arm felt heavy. His face. His lungs. They had put something in the IV and he didn't usually do so hot with a sedative but she knew that. She knew all about him.

She was his hero.

"Hush, Rick. That's sweet, but it's time for surgery now."

The last he knew was her cool mouth against his forehead in a kiss.

Oh, and then the baby, slobbering on his chin.

* * *

Check out my Amazon author page (Laura Bontrager) for my new book **Formerly Known As**.


	8. Chapter 8

**Close Encounters 31**

* * *

Kate had, at first, attempted to do some research while Castle was under. But James had made that impossible. Either the baby felt sensed her tension or he was carrying some of his own after being taken away from his father, but he was a whiny, rubbing-his-face into her pants kind of thing.

She had wound up taking him by the fingers and drawing him to the interlocking puzzle desk near the wall. Now he played happily, handing her blocks and taking them back, fitting things into holes or slots in the wood crate that Logan had built a few months ago.

"Mama!"

"Yes, I see," she murmured, drawing her eyes away from the laptop she'd abandoned on the couch. She took the triangle block from him, rubbing absently at the smoothly planed wood. "It's a triangle, little wolf. Here." She handed it back and he beamed, hugging it to his chest.

James went back to the baby-high wooden table and tried to fit the triangle into a trapezoid hole. He grunted in frustration and banged the block when it wouldn't slide through, and Kate silently turned the crate on its lazy-susan until the right slot appeared.

Which James spotted immediately, triumphantly shoving the triangle block through.

He cheered and threw up both arms, looking to her for praise.

She clapped with a little laugh, shaking her head at him. "You did very good. You had help, but not much." She leaned in and kissed his cheeks, and he squirmed and gave her his shy smile, the one Castle insisted meant only that the kid was overwhelmed by emotion and not that he didn't like their regard.

Too bad if he did. She was going to kiss his cheeks and praise him anyway; he was her miracle.

James grunted and curled his nose, shook his head back at her.

"I know, I know. Melodramatic as Daddy, huh? But you are. Now where does this one go?" She held up a simple circle, handed it over to him to see what he'd make of it. James turned to the puzzle and began trying every slot.

She glanced at her father's watch and was gratified to see the hour had passed rather quickly, playtime with her son having distracted her well enough. James waddled around the wooden crate, apparently forgetting it would spin, and tried the slots on that side. She leaned back against the edge of the couch and closed her eyes, weary.

She imagined the bones of his hand. The x-rays where calcium had deposited in staggering degrees before the fingers could be set. The knobby places where spiral fractures had knit imperfectly, the mallet fingers from severed tendons that hadn't refitted in the right places. The ER doc in Columbia had tried; it wasn't that he'd been incompetent. Only that they hadn't gotten Castle treatment fast enough - and he'd had regimen right before the broken fingers.

It all just-

"Mom- _my_!"

Kate's eyes flew open to find her son scowling at her, indignant and dark. He lifted his hand and she saw the block a second before he chucked it.

She caught it.

She hadn't thought, only reacted, but her reflexes were damn good thanks to Castle's training - and to what remnants of regimen still existed in her body.

She'd caught the block automatically.

James's jaw dropped, and then he clapped his hands for her, beaming and pleased.

She scowled, narrowing her eyes, and held up the block. "You know better. Don't you _dare_ throw things."

He stopped clapping, froze. His chin quivered.

"No. Not-uh." She pointed at him. "You don't get to be _sad_ about it. Not when you're misbehaving." She touched his chin with a finger and bumped his bottom lip. "Don't you dare, James Beckett Rodgers."

He twisted away, hiding his face from her, his body hunched. She'd never seen him do that before, and they'd had plenty of scoldings between them.

Kate set the block on top of the wooden crate and carefully gripped James under the arm, dragged him into her lap.

James gave a little noise and buried his face in her chest, clinging to her jacket with both hands. She sighed and drew her arms around him, tilting her head to kiss his temple.

"Are you sad because you know better than to throw projectiles at Mommy, or are you sad because I'm worried about Daddy?"

She wasn't expecting an answer, but James whimpered _Daddy_ into her collarbones and squirmed closer.

She sighed and rubbed his back with a hand, holding him loosely. She didn't like the way her own panic infected him, and she tried not to let her need for deep pressure, for love so hard it hurt, transmit to him either.

"You're okay," she told him. "And so is Daddy. And so is Mommy, soon as she can remember the truth. Daddy's hand was broken, and all they're doing is fixing it, wolf."

James clung to the lapels of her jacket. So she shrugged it off, one arm at a time, and tossed it away. Now James sat up and looked at her gravely, that too-serious old-man face.

She cupped his cheeks and kissed his nose lightly. "This is life, old man. This is what you're in for. Sometimes Mommy and Daddy have to come here to our friends in the lab, and they do what they can for us. We're hybrids." She couldn't help the way her lips twitched; it wasn't funny but sometimes it was. "So are you, Jay P. All of us little chimeras."

He rubbed his face against her t-shirt and then laid her cheek to his shoulder, sighing. She cupped the back of his head and shifted to stand, getting on her feet without much difficulty. She sat on the couch with him, letting him cuddle, her squishy. He was a delicate-looking kid, took after her like that, though he had Castle's big head - her pelvis knew that well enough. His face had thinned as a newborn as he'd dropped weight before they could help, and then again lately, his growth spurts had tried to lose the baby fat.

But his hands were Rick's. She shouldn't be able to tell - what were a baby's hands? - but he had Castle's wide-spaced fingers, the thick knuckles, and then those palms. They had joked that James's palms were as wide and floppy as Sasha's paws had been as a puppy, but there was some truth to it.

His father's capable broad hands, and her what? Her anxiety and inability to be content?

Damn, she hoped not. He already exhibited such sensitivity to their moods, an uncanny ability to comfort when they needed it, to stay up the night watch with them.

"You'll take after your daddy, right?" She kissed his ear and made him giggle. His little body squirming in her lap. His warmth and strength. "You know I love you no matter what."

"Mama."

"That's me," she murmured. Another kiss at his ear.

"Mama, _uck_."

She laughed. "No, not quite. Promise. I'll let you know when." She leaned back and nudged him down off her lap, helping him to the floor and pushing him towards the toys. "Forget the puzzles for a while, wolf. Find me the puppy."

James lighted up, his face beaming, and he crowed for his dog. Or... barked? She laughed and tried not to let him see it, reaching past him instead for the stuffed wolf that had fallen to the floor. She handed it to him, stroking its fur, and his face was crestfallen.

"Sorry, sorry, I got you excited. That's my fault." She chuckled and popped James's nose with the stuffed toy. "Look, this is a puppy too."

"Shh?" he questioned, eyeing the thing that wasn't his Sasha.

"She's at home. This is a toy puppy. Here, hug on her, she needs a hug."

James dutifully took the thing, giving her the side-eye for it, and he squeezed it to his chest. She praised him for it and James tucked the dog under his arm and turned around to look for something.

She watched him with half a mind, and when he turned back to her and thrust a teddy bear over her knees, she was astonished.

But she smiled and hugged the bear to her chest. "Thank you, sweetheart. What a good boy."

James ducked his head with that shyness and squeezed his own stuffed animal.

Obviously they both could use some comfort.

Kate sighed and held out her arms to the baby, gathered him up and into her lap again, cuddling with him on the couch. He sat beside her, curled at her ribs, the wolf under his arm.

So still and good.

She felt she was waiting just the same.

* * *

When Castle woke, there was a deafening silence in his head, cottoning him. His mouth was a dry desolation. His nostrils burned with his breath. His body felt like dead weight.

It wasn't pleasant.

And then sounds slowly filled in, sensation trickled through his limbs like icy rivulets, like standing in glacier runoff up to his neck.

He'd done that once, a training thing back when he'd still been trying to impress his father. He'd felt like this then too, numb and tingling and faintly afraid. His body wasn't supposed to feel like this; his body didn't normally hit its limits.

His throat was closed up, his nostrils flaring as he labored to draw in a deeper breath.

He thrashed.

"You're okay, you're just fine, Rick."

Her voice brought the rest of him back, like being warmed under the lights, suffused. He opened his eyes and found his wife leaning in against the mattress. Leaning into him.

Her arm was pressed along his own. Her fingers stroking his forearm, the fine hairs, so that the feeling of her was prickling all through his body. Awakening. "Hi." The word sounded barnacled, rusty with disuse.

She smiled, but it was wary, her eyes lifting to meet his. "Well, hey there, Sleeping Beauty."

"I really am beautiful," he rumbled, trying for a laugh that failed entirely. He swallowed again to clear his throat. "Where's the kid?"

"Carrie came by, took him for me."

"Carrie?" he husked. He found himself searching her face for clues. Carrie wasn't the baby-sitter type; they usually had the Ryans for that, if her dad wasn't available. He was confused. "Is it late?" At the wash of emotion over her face, his heart rate picked up. "How long was I out?"

Her head bobbed; she gave him a tight smile. "I overreacted."

"Tell me, Kate."

"Been a few hours."

"What time-"

"You were unconscious for about seven hours, the surgery only took one."

"Shit." He reached for her, his good hand, caught the side of her face, dug his fingers into her hair and the back of her neck. "Shit, I'm so sorry."

"We knew it was a possibility with the regimen," she whispered, but she dipped towards him and finally crashed against his side. "I knew it might - I knew you reacted differently to sedation plus the serum, I knew-"

"But you were afraid," he murmured, turning a kiss to the top of her ear. She huddled at his side, hunched over the bedside railing, and he wound his arm around her neck and held her closer. "I'm so sorry, Kate. I'm-"

"Not your fault I freaked out our kid."

"You did?" he whispered, his mouth against her cheek. "James? He never freaks out."

"Logan called Carrie. She took him right out of my arms."

"God."

"No, that was - I was freaking him out, he was crying, and I was crying, and we just were making each other worse." She shuddered hard, but there were no tears now. "And all I wanted to do was crawl into this bed with you. So. Good that Carrie took him."

"What about your dad?"

"He's at the lake," she sighed. "And I didn't want to scare the Ryans."

He sighed and squeezed her with his arm, burrowing his nose in her hair. "I love you. It's okay."

"I panicked."

"Long time coming," he murmured. They both knew it too, and she didn't protest. "Probably should've talked more with King." She didn't answer that either. "But it's okay. We have good people around us, Kate, because of you, because you draw family wherever you go, and they took care of you when I couldn't."

"You weren't in danger," she whispered. "I just lost... lost it."

"I know, love. It happens, it does. I'm sure that'll be me in a week when you're on this side of things."

"I'm so sorry," she moaned.

"Hey, it's okay. This is life, and we have so much. Bound to have a few bumps." He glanced through the room, but she'd obviously been perched on the edge of her seat for too long. "Baby, it's okay. I hate that I scared you, that you went through this alone-"

"My dad will be here with you when it's me. I won't let you be blindsided like this. I should have thought, should have planned better. I am so sorry-"

"Hush," he scolded her, pressing his lips to her cheek. "Sedation does weird things to me when I'm on regimen, and we knew that going in, but our fears aren't rational. Neither is our love." He shifted against her and moved to sit up.

She cried out, pressing him back down. "What are you doing?"

"Slept away the whole damn day. I want to go home, I want to take _you_ home, cuddle my kid. And you. Come on, Kate."

She dragged in a ragged breath but it wasn't tears; she had stopped crying, had moved straight to apologies and self-deprecation. But he could make that better, he could reassure her in a way no one and nothing else could. And he knew that, he knew he held that power for her.

Castle sat up, wrapping his arm around her, shifting her upright as well. She struggled with a breath and sat back, both her hands around his forearm, touching his wrist really gently-

and then he realized it wasn't his good side. It was his formerly broken one.

And now it wasn't.

"Oh." He stared down at his hand. "It's healed."

She sucked another terrible breath and nodded. "It's healed."

"And I didn't wake up."

"I was afraid it had... been too much. We'd done it wrong-"

"You didn't do it wrong," he promised her. He lifted his now-strong hand and felt the curl of his fingers, the flexibility in his tendons. He cupped her face, used his formerly-mangled thumb to brush lightly along her cheekbone. "You did everything right. Knocks me out, and we know that, and now look. Look what I can do."

She caught his hand against her face and closed her eyes, kissed the inside of his wrist. "I love you."

"Love you too, sweetheart. No more being afraid. It's time to go home." He leaned in and kissed her gently. "We have a birthday party to get ready for."


	9. Chapter 9

**Close Encounters 31**

* * *

Castle had kicked her out of the house while he finished up the last of the finger foods. He kept a wolf, and she had the other, carrying James on her hip down the stoop while Sasha remained behind with Rick because, as he'd put it, 'at least the dog doesn't steal my food.' _Two hours, Beckett; I better not see your face._

She knew she was hovering; she couldn't quite shake it. Hours waiting for him to open his eyes, be okay. Boyd had said, _well the high fever of the regimen could damage his brain,_ and that had been it for her. Panic through and through.

She was really trying not to hover.

James looked so pathetic without his packmate that she took him to the playground instead of the park. She texted Mitchell's team - it was Reese as lead today - and she didn't even _see_ who she picked up on her walk to the subway station. She knew she'd have on bodyguard riding the car with them, but the whole way she never could ID him.

Pretty damn good.

Or she was getting rusty. Depressing thought.

James was astonished at the playground, acting like he'd never seen one before. Never beheld such a thing as a slide, though they'd taken him to this very place only two, maybe three months ago. Obviously he had no memories of it, and it was a silly thing to be so pleased to give those to him all over again.

Middle of October and the place was mostly deserted. Squashed as it was between two buildings, a meager scatter of thin and sickly trees, the playground equipment jutted up from the shredded-tire sponge like the skeletons of beached monsters. But James squirmed to get down from her arms and took off running for the first metal and plastic thing he could get his hands on.

She saw Reese already stationed at the back, near one of the exits, nodding his approval at her choice. He hated the park closer to the CIA; it only had one point of egress. But he had his team on these three exits, and he could gather James swiftly and herd her towards a waiting car in moments.

No, she wasn't paranoid. Not really. it was just that people had a way of finding her in this city alone with her son.

James demanded her attention, shrieking her name as he clambered up onto a roundabout. She tamped down the reflexive roll of her stomach at the idea, but she dutifully sat down on the low wheel and leaned her back against the metal handhold. James scooted in towards the center and clapped his hands, so she pushed off with a foot, barely making it begin to turn.

" _Mama!_ "

"Alright, alright, you little tyrant." She dug her heel into the soft give of recycled tire-shreds, putting effort into it this time. The dial spun in a faintly rolling motion, a seasick-inducing drag of her center of balance out towards the edges, as if being flung off the world.

James cackled with glee.

Her lips twitched, and she gave the next push a bit more shove.

James gasped and pitched backwards, and she snagged him by the front of his jacket to keep him upright. He only laughed harder, desperate, hysterical giggles. Kate laid him down on his back and placed a hand to his belly to keep him there, and then she gave it another shove of her foot.

It really was intoxicating.

She laid down beside him, letting herself feel the dizzy drag, soaked with the fierce blue sky above. The wind was bitter, her nose and cheeks stinging at the cool fall temperatures, but James was his own little toaster; he kept her shoulder and arm warm even now.

"Mama, mama, mom-meeee," he babbled, throwing up both hands as if to reach for the spinning sky.

She didn't have words for it either, the lazy roll that nevertheless pulled at her guts. She kept a foot skimming the ground, not only for her own sense of space, but to give the dial a push when it began to slow.

James groaned and rolled into her, laughing again, clutching her jacket with a fist and trying to crawl up or over her body, something. He loved these things, always had, even if he didn't quite have the memory of them. He was trying to crawl across the inner circle of the dial, and she let him get an arm's length away, her fingers curled in the pocket of his jacket.

She tugged and he collapsed, laughing into the plastic merry-go-round. It was beginning to slow, and she rolled onto her shoulder, her hips against the metal bar, braced, and she dragged James back to her.

He was giggling, his eyelids sluggish even as his gaze darted around around around, trying to follow the stationary objects as they moved. He fell into her chest and gave his old-man chuckle, flopped onto his back in the crook of her arm.

The roundabout slowed, the earth stopped going crazy.

James sighed and flung up his arms, fingers working as if squeezing the oxygen out of the air or the light out of the sky.

"Fun," she told him, kissing his sweat-damp temple. "That's what this is. It's fun, James."

"Un," he said proudly. "Un, Mommy."

She grinned and nuzzled down into his ear, growling a little like Sasha until he giggled again.

"Happy Birthday, my beautiful boy," she whispered against his cheek. Grateful, somehow, to have this moment, just the two of them, on today of all days. "May you grow up to be as tender-hearted as your daddy."

James twisted and flung himself into her, and then over, scrambling to stand. He braced his feet on the merry-go-round's flat surface, even as it still slowly turned, and he looked back at her, hair ruffled in the wind.

Grinning.

"Alright, fine. You're gonna conquer like your daddy too, aren't you?"

* * *

The party was already lively by the time his wife finally came in the front door, chatting to James in that low tone that always made Castle's guts curl. She didn't seem to understand why her father was there, and then of course, what he was wearing made her do a double take.

Large round glasses for owl eyes, an orange beak on his nose, feathers for wings, owls on his tie.

"Surprise!"

Castle had a rush of absolute triumph when she stopped dead and stared at them all.

Everyone here had been waiting on the guests of honor - the baby, of course, but also the baby's mother, who had done all the hard work. (Everyone but his mother, of course, who hadn't shown her face.) True to their promises, each one had dressed like a woodland creature.

Kate's jaw had dropped. James was staring, baffled by the adults wearing costumes and ears and tails.

Castle approached with the lousiest-wide grin he'd ever felt in his life, and he anointed her with the circlet of flowers, leaned in softly to kiss both cheeks. "Thank you for our son," he whispered. "Happy birth-day."

"Oh my God, Rick Castle. What did you do?"

"I told you I had it covered."

She reached up and touched the crown of flowers, her eyes wide and beautiful, her other arm squeezing James. Jim came with the headband of wolf ears and carefully adjusted them on the boy's head. James tossed his chin back, as if trying to see them, his eyes sliding right and left, a little grin curling on his face. Their crowd of friends and family all laughed, and he ducked his head behind his mommy, his cheeks flushing pink.

But he didn't try to yank the ears off.

"We're all wild animals," Castle explained, turning around so she could see his bushy wolf tail. His headband of wolf ears were store-bought, but everyone else had creatively concocted their own costumes. "He has a tail too, if we can get it on him."

"And what am I?" she said, her cheeks as pink as the baby's.

"A fairy, a wood nymph, the most beautiful magical creature of them all." He nodded to Carrie, who brought up her wings.

"Oh my God, shut up," she laughed, but she released James to him and shrugged her arms into the elastic bands of the wings. Carrie adjusted them, shimmers of blue and purple, and Kate turned to look at their people. "Everyone's here. Wow. Um, hi."

That seemed to break the thrall, and now the rest of their friends crowded around, showing off costumes and colors, hugging Kate and kissing James and congratulating Castle on his surprise party. He'd had most of it up and decorated by the time they'd made it to the playground, according to the text he'd gotten from Reese, who'd been in on the ruse with him. The jungle woods were replicated in their living room and dining room - created from papier mache over wire frames, large palm fronds, and a whole lot of flowering plants he'd bought from local nurseries. Jungle and woods combined, he figured, since they'd picked up their parasite in the jungles of the Congo anyway.

James clung to his neck, riding high in his arms as he looked out at the crowd. But he wasn't shy - that wasn't his nature with all these familiar faces, their family of friends. He loved being among them, passed around, and Castle had seen it firsthand on their island; he wasn't worried the kid would be clinging to them all night. It was supposed to be a party for him too.

Jenny Ryan, dressed as a sleek jungle cat with panther ears and whiskers and black body suit, came to James with Nicky in his Halloween bear suit trailing behind her. "You're the cutest wolf I've ever seen," she cooed at James. "How's it feel to be one year old, you handsome boy?"

"Don't know about him, but damn, I'm glad we made it," Castle grinned. James shifted in his arms and peered around Jenny to see Nick.

"Eye!"

"I think that's hi," Castle translated. "He's been trying some words lately."

"Hi to you too, James Beckett." Ryan approached, spotted like a leopard. "Where's his tail? He's gotta have that. Here, buddy, let's get that thing clipped to your jeans."

Castle held James still while Ryan plucked the tail from his pocket and attached it to James's backside. Carrie, dressed as a fox with those pointy ears and reddened hair, handed Castle a drink, laughing when the kid twisted to glance over his shoulder at the tail. "It's 'Where the Wild Things Are' in here, isn't it? Wow, Rick. Never would've imagined this, those early days when Mark would bring you home for dinner. You know, he'd be proud; he always said you never got to be a kid."

He was too filled with gratitude to be saddened by the thought of his former partner's absence. It was because of Kate that Carrie had been in their lives, Kate's insistence, her reminders to him to call Eastman's widow on the anniversary of his death, to keep up, not let her slip away. And Carrie, in turn, had always been steady and willing to help. "I'm - grateful you think so," he told her, offering a side-arm hug to bring her closer. She patted the baby's leg and slipped back into the crowd, and now Threkeld and his wife were coming for Echo.

The doctor had not dressed up, Castle thought at first, but as the Threkelds congratulated him, he realized Threkeld had come as a safari expeditioner. Khaki jacket and cargo pants, when the specialist always wore dress shirts and charcoal pants.

Castle was humbled.

Everyone had done as he'd asked, everyone had pitched in to get this thing together. There was a gourmet cake Jenny Ryan had made, Mitchell and his team had constructed the elaborate wire frames for the trees at their warehouse. Esposito had been the one to round up all the nursery plants and deliver them moments after Kate had left. Reynolds had even scoured dollar stores until he'd found enough jungle accents.

"Daddy?"

Castle startled, glanced down to his son who was seeking his attention earnestly. "Hey, wolf. I like hearing you talking. It's your birthday. Your first birthday. All these people, just here to celebrate you. How about that?"

"I can't believe he's already a year old." Kate was returning to them, the circle of flowers on her head, the ribbon down her back, the ethereal priestess of their birthday ritual. "I can't believe all _this_. Rick. The trees, these exotic flowers, the _banner._ When did you have time for this?"

"I didn't really. But I had a lot of amazing help."

She shook her head, staring at the room. "Logan is here with his kids too. And Reynolds. And Mitchell and Reese and, shit, even Boyd and Threkeld and his wife."

He nodded, a lump in his throat. Everyone but his mother. Everyone who mattered.

Kate leaned in and kissed his cheek, the flowers brushing his temple and smelling faintly sweet. "Why did you... all this, love, should be for James."

"No," he said quickly, shaking his head. He palmed the side of her face with his healed hand, strong again. Curving to the exact angle of her jaw. "This should be for you. You did the work. You kept him safe." She shook her head. "You died for him."

She flushed pink again, but her whole face was lighting up.

And her eyes were gazing past him. "Oh. Oh, _Rick_."

He turned.

His mother was coming through the door, a massive stuffed animal nearly toppling her, bright blue bow around its neck. "Am I too late, darlings?" When she settled the animal on the floor and it reached her hip. She was unwinding her scarf, letting Reynolds take her trenchcoat. "This thing is a beast." She patted the top of the stuffed wolf's head.

Castle moved towards her, tugged forward by a rope around his neck. He swallowed roughly, and James leaned out for Martha with grabbing hands. His mother took the boy and hugged him to her chest.

"Too late?" Castle echoed. His eyes were stinging. He hated himself for it, but he'd been - hoping she'd come. "No, Mother. Just fashionably."


	10. Chapter 10

Close Encounters

* * *

It could be said that Special Agent Rick Castle was an early riser.

The truth was that he was simply the kind who never went to bed in the first place. Especially this day, of all days, and he knew that was leaking out into the atmosphere of their home and affecting his people. At work or in bed, his colleagues were suffering for it.

He just didn't know how else to manage stress.

Today was her procedure. Transfusion. And if that didn't work, next up was transplant, a bone marrow transplant using marrow created in a lab and a bone graft that would take the place of what her own body was producing.

He was rooting for the damn transfusion. Let it be that simple. Let it be smooth. He knew the statistics, knew the procedure backward and front, knew the time she had and the initial weakness, the resiliency or lack thereof of her immune system afterwards.

He just didn't know the outcome. He had no control over this.

And he couldn't sleep.

Neither could his new one year old.

Castle roused from the office chair and hunted down the hallway towards the boy's room. Sasha had not abandoned her post, despite her whining at James for sleep, and Castle ducked to rub the top of her head just beside the crib.

James got to his feet, throwing up his arms in silent demand.

Castle lowered the side of the crib and reached in, plucked his son from the sweat-damp sheets. "Did you have a bad dream?" He fished out a pacifier and the special ratty blanket he wouldn't let go of these days, found the corduroy elephant thrown to the floor. "You're supposed to be sleeping so that you're not a total brat when Mom's under."

"Dadada." The baby refused the pacifier, so Castle tossed it back. " _Da_ da."

"That's me." James rubbed his face against Castle's shoulder. He combed his fingers through the baby's hair, the softly curling stuff at his nape. "You're gonna be just like your mama, aren't you?"

James growled like the dog, and Castle laughed.

"Alright, more like your pack mama, got it. Come on then, Jay P. Let's see if you're tired enough to sleep with Mommy, huh? Can you be really quiet and fall back to sleep if she's right there?"

Castle carried the boy back down the hall, into his office first to log out of the system and wipe the cache, clear his passwords. It was all those automatic things he'd learned so long ago, never imagining this moment right here. Holding his one year old son in his arms as he longed more for his wife and family than his work.

Sasha had followed; she was at the door waiting on them. James kicked his feet and grunted against Castle's neck but he didn't try to wriggle down for the dog. Kid was probably exhausted. His birthday party had been a week ago, but they really hadn't gotten back on track since then. Martha had come over twice, dropping in without a phone call in warning, but Castle had to admit he had enjoyed her visits.

Whatever that meant.

He didn't like to dwell on it; he had his wife, his son. He didn't need a mother.

Castle shifted on his feet and eased the bedroom door open. James protested his being carried, but he stopped squawking when Castle tugged his ear and stepped inside.

"Mommy," James grinned. He leaned out for her and Castle let him onto the bed. James immediately crawled right up the middle and sank down in the curve of her body, cuddling like he always did with Sasha on the couch.

"Come on, puppy," Castle murmured, scooping the dog off the floor to gently put her on the bed as well. "You too. Quietly. Don't wake her."

"Ate," James said. He seemed to have learned Kate's name these last few days, but who had taught him that, they had no idea. He patted the pillow and put his head down, but his eyes stayed open.

Not good.

Castle pulled off his sweatpants and crawled into bed with them, arranging himself around Sasha and trying not to wake his wife. He wanted her well-rested for today's procedure, didn't want a damn thing blocking their way to a healthy recovery. He pushed an arm under the boy's pillow, which was his own anyway, and he laid down right at James's back in an effort to keep the boy away from her.

His son turned and beamed at him, patted his nose. "I, Daddy."

"Hi," he whispered. "Can you be a sweet boy, be quiet?"

"Ite, Daddy."

"That's right, quiet. Means no talking."

"Let 'em talk," Kate slurred. Castle glanced past James to find her eyes still closed, but awareness in the tension of her body. "Doesn't talk enough."

"Shh," he hushed, laying his hand on James's body to keep him from engaging her. "Back to sleep, love."

"Mm." Her hand unfurled from her cheek and her fingers broached the spaced between them. She got licked for it, Sasha eagerly nosing into her. She laughed, and her eyes came open finally. "Hi, guys. Morning."

"Not really," he sighed. "Only about five."

"Respectable," she whispered. "With coffee."

"Not today it's not," he growled.

Her lips quirked; she was laughing at him and he didn't care. She couldn't eat this morning before the blood tests, so no coffee, no breakfast. She wasn't going to be laughing later.

James slinked out from under his hand and crawled over Sasha to be closer to his mommy, and Castle couldn't really blame him. "You should sleep if you can, Kate."

"Probably won't," she admitted, cracking an eyelid to look at him. "But I'll just lie here and enjoy my family."

He melted; he did. He could admit it. She always knew how to get to him. "Love you, Kate."

"I know you do. Ditto, baby."

He squirmed closer now himself, accidentally kneeing Sasha in his quest. The dog didn't budge, unwilling to give up ground, and now James was actually on top of his mother, draped at her ribs, and she laughed and wrapped her arm around him. Kisses to the top of his head.

"Wow, you guys are clingy."

"Can you blame us?" he muttered.

Her eyes came to him again, her lips turning tender. She reached past the squirming boy, the furry obstacle of the dog, and she cupped his cheek. "I'm going to be fine, going to be good, Rick. I am _in_ this story. This is my story: it's you guys. Celebrating his birthday, nagging you to be a son to your mother, refereeing your crazy wrestling matches with this kid, watching Sasha teach him to speak wolf instead of human." She grinned widely and nudged in against his pillow, kissing his nose. "Besides, I can't wait to see you in your Halloween costume. Love this life you made for me, Rick Castle."

He wrapped her in his arms. He would not let go.

* * *

There was an emergency response team waiting just in case. She knew that didn't comfort Castle, but she thought it showed how responsibly they were undertaking this experimental procedure. They had set up a room for her and their family, comfortable, a nice reclining chair, padded, pillows, blankets, television on the wall. Toys and things to distract James.

She held the baby in her lap as they hooked her up to the dialysis machine (she knew she was doing it to prove something to Castle, but she hoped it worked). James leaned back against her chest and chewed viciously on his teething ring, watching Logan and Boyd as they inserted the needles in either arm and put in the ports.

Little bit more than mere dialysis, of course.

Castle sat beside her, leaning in against the head of the reclined chair, studying the guys intently. She couldn't knock her knuckles against his furrowed brow and ease his tension, her wrists were already strapped to the armrests to keep her from jostling the ports. But she blew a breath into his face to make him startle.

He stared at her. Blinked.

Then he reached past Logan and took James out of her lap, shook his head at her. He cradled James like a baby and the boy didn't struggle, let his father soothe him, though it was Castle who needed the soothing.

"You're okay," she told him, keeping her voice low. Logan was taping the port in her right arm. "I'm okay. I'll be awake the whole time, just - probably get really tired during the transfusion."

"They're draining all of the blood out of your body," he said tightly.

"And pouring it back in."

"But there's that lag. As it's treated."

"No, no lag. It's a cocktail, some of James and some of what they've created in the lab. There's no lag, and my own treated blood goes back inside my body."

He nodded tightly; she knew he knew all of that. Knew it now. But he had been quizzing her all week, as if trying to trip her up. She'd simply let him; she deserved that much, keeping it from him in the first place. Let him try to find holes in their theories.

He hadn't. This had been under process since Paris, since that horror, almost dying. She had known he could never never go back there again; she would have to find a way to be better.

She had just not wanted it to hurt him. He looked so forlorn. "Rick."

He kissed her forehead. "Hey, it's not you," he said roughly. "I know you're mine, you're strong and determined, a fighter. This is my nightmare, love, that's all. My issue. I'm gonna worry the whole time, and then when it's over and you're waking up with new blood in you, we'll make fun of my anxiety and I'll make jokes about Dracula."

"Never gonna make fun of you," she said, wishing her arms weren't already taped into place.

"Hey, guys? We're ready."

She turned her head and found Boyd and Logan waiting, Logan poised by the machine and ready to open it up. She nodded and glanced to Castle, waiting for his consent, but he was holding James and looking _so_ worried.

She had to be the one. "Alright," she said firmly. "Let's get this started."

Logan nodded back and turned on the machine.

The blood began to drain out of her arm.


	11. Final Chapter

**Close Encounters 31**

* * *

Kate dropped out fast.

He had expected it, but it was still eerie to watch her eyes roll back and her consciousness falter. She tried to hang on, he could see her working to stay, to placate James and himself, no doubt. But she couldn't.

Logan checked her vitals on the machine, and then again with his stethoscope. "We're good. Steady. Blood pressure is good too."

Castle nodded, his eyes on the pulse-ox display, but he could see for himself everything was stable.

"I'll be just next door if you need anything, and her vitals will be right in front of me," Logan told him. He looped the stethoscope around his neck and headed out. "Try and relax, just a little, would you, Castle? This will take a while."

He shot Logan a glare, but the man was already leaving. But Logan was right. He couldn't just hover here, leave James to crawl around the foot of the bed.

Castle reached in and deftly scooped the kid up, stood before her bed. "Okay, wolf, let's give Mommy a chance to breathe." Not that he thought her system was so depressed by the procedure that a little extra weight was going to collapse her lungs. He just - he needed to keep moving.

He was restless, just sitting here watching the monitors and waiting for her eyes to open. Waiting for her to come back to him.

Depressing too.

"Yeah, we won't do that to Kate, will we?" Castle shifted the kid higher in his right arm and patted James's back. "Good thing we brought your birthday toys. Smart of Mom, wasn't it?"

"Mommy," James said wisely, nodding his head. "Me."

"Can't tell if you have a new word there, or if you're just echoing yourself. Echo. Would be appropriate, I guess, the latter." He backed away from the bed, telling himself to be confident in the machines, in the alarms and warnings which would go off and let him know if something was wrong.

Confident in the people and medical staff they had cultivated, confident in the process and the research she had done, which he had downloaded and swallowed whole, confident in the family they had created.

Confident in her. That she wanted in on their story.

Castle carried the boy to the couch and settled in, pulled the bag of stuff towards them. "Here we go, kiddo. Look what we got. Oh, it's your new play-doh pasta maker. What colors did Mommy pack for us? Hot pink, neon green. Safety cone orange. Wow. We will definitely not lose these, will we?"

"Ee!" James lunged for the canister of hot pink and got both hands on it, put it to his mouth and started chewing.

"Well, that's a hit anyway. I'm honestly not sure how much play-doh playing we'll do, so let's get this out of the way first."

Castle leaned forward, an arm around the kid like a safety restraint, and dragged the little table towards their perch on the couch. They'd designed this room in the beginning with the intention of bringing a little bit of home into the program's necessary procedures - they'd been thinking of James in here, in case the kid needed blood transfusions in later days, or monitoring for some God-awful unknown reason.

So there was space to play and not be in Kate's sterile field, and they could set up the play-doh pasta machine thing with all its accoutrements - plastic knives and filters and shapes like cookie cutters. When he set James on his feet and pried off the lid of the orange play-doh, James butted up and peered inside, his head blocking Castle's view.

"Ooh, Daddy!"

Castle laughed, kissed the top of his head. "That right? Well maybe Mom was right. Isn't she always?"

* * *

She had drifted up from darkness a few minutes ago, but had been too tired to call attention to herself.

She'd rather watch them play.

James was busy, moving from the couch to the table to the floor, dictating and arranging things. He had bright play-doh creations in his hands, which he was painstakingly depositing around the room as if serving invisible friends a feast.

Which, of course, he had conned Castle into making.

Her husband was hunched over the coffee table with a host of plastic play-doh accessories, churning out long strings of round or triangle shaped pasta. There were abandoned cookie cutters, a pile of shapes on little doll plates, but it was obvious James enjoyed the loops and coils of the pasta maker.

"Sase! Sase, Daddy," James ordered.

"Snakes, I know, making more snakes."

 _Snakes_. She couldn't help laughing, and her guys both picked up their heads and pinned her with a look.

"Mommy!"

"Hey, baby," she said, stirring in the bed.

"How long you been awake, watching us?" Castle stood from the pasta maker and James loudly protested, berating him for abandoning his post. "Hush, you turkey. You've got plenty. Mommy's awake."

He ignored James and came to her bedside, and she smiled at the distinctive aroma of moist salt that play-doh always brought with it. "You smell like my childhood," she murmured, smiling up at him.

Castle leaned in and braced himself at the head of her bed, kissed her mouth. "Well, thanks? How you feel?"

"Just tired," she admitted, nodding. "He likes hosting dinner parties, I see."

"Snake parties. Though, I did catch him trying to eat it, so who knows." He leaned in over her still, hovering, checking her eyes apparently.

"Don't have a concussion, Castle." She lifted a hand to him, but it was tied down, the tubing in her arms. "Oh, whoops. Can this come out yet?"

"Not yet." He caught her fingers and squeezed. "I know you don't have a concussion, but you also plow straight ahead without pausing and it's only by looking in your eyes that I really know if you're okay."

"Well, that kinda sucks for you," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "Ow. That hurt."

"That's what you get for rolling your eyes at me, your doting and concerned husband."

She laughed. "Go get my baby before he eats the play-doh."

"Oh, you are _way_ late to that party, Beckett." But he turned away from her to herd James towards the bed, picked the boy up and settled his feet on the edge of the mattress. "See your mommy? She's awake and almost done."

"Not as tired as I thought I'd be," she said.

"All things being relative, that means shit to me. You're still tired. Wiped, I'd say. But less than you thought? Still wiped."

"Yeah, yeah," she huffed.

His hand splayed at the baby's belly, keeping him from leaning down and getting at any of the tubes. "Hey, Kate, I'm sorry for being such an asshole about all this. I've treated you like shit, and it's just because I'm scared."

"You're scared?" she cried. "Still?"

"Well, yeah still, always am about you. Not as much as I was, but I see you lying there and it's always going to make me feel sick. What do I do without you? What does any of this mean without you?"

"You know I get it," she insisted, wishing she wasn't tied down like this. Might be why he'd picked this moment to be so honest. "You _know_ I understand how you feel, because we are the _same_."

"I know." He was wrangling James to keep the boy there, but he finally gave it up, as he should, and put the kid down on the floor. When he rose up, he had nothing to do with his hands, nothing to wrestle into place, and she could see how it affected him.

"Rick." She was going to yank these damn tubes out of her arms in a second. "Rick, listen to me. Your fear? That's what makes me stop telling you things. Your... no, not the fear itself, but your inability to keep it in normal bounds. You overreact-"

"Overreact," he growled, scrubbing both hands down his face.

"Poor word choice," she sighed. Never gonna come out right.

"Overreact. And what... you get to freak out and move mountains and follow my father who wants nothing more than you _dead_ \- and into the heart of his territory - just because I got a damn cold? I'm overreacting?"

She winced.

"You said it, Kate. We're the same in this." He shook his head, hands clenched in fists.

"I... know. I just kept trying to handle it all myself, so I wouldn't have to worry you, so it wouldn't be messy and scary either. I'd just tell you how it was going to go and you could come along for the ride and not have to worry, not _have_ to overreact. Like I know we both do."

Castle sank down to the chair and propped his elbows on his knees, stared at her. "I get what you mean," he said. "I do. I'm trying not to overreact. I played with our kid all morning instead of hover."

She smiled, glanced past her feet to where James was rearranging his play-dog. "You really did."

"We had fun too," he said. "I had fun. You're lying in a bed with blood draining out of your arm, but Kate..."

"I know," she whispered.

"You _don't_ know," he said. "No, I mean, you do, but you don't know how good it was to sit with my son and watch him learn and imitate me and try new things and call for you and then he'd turn to me and say _seeping_ , like he knew I needed reassurance, and I just..."

She grinned.

His turn to huff. He sat back in the chair and watched James layer green play-doh on top of a tower of pink. "Anyway, I'm allowed to be scared for you. The island taught me I have no control over your physical recovery, but I do have some influence on your emotional. You need me to keep my fears in check, be a good dad, a good husband, hell, a partner, and I am learning how to do that. Every day, every year we're together is another learning experience."

"Wow."

He glanced at her, and his ears went pink. "Yeah, sorry. I treated you like shit the past few weeks, and I shouldn't have. Period. End of story."

"I forgive you, always will, without asking," she said fervently.

He leaned in again, shaking his head. "Which is why I can't be a bastard to you. You'll _take_ it."

"Old news," she said softly, trying to smile at him. "No point in fixing me."

He chuckled, weak as it was. "Yeah, therapy has taught me as much. Though I wouldn't say _fix_ you." He lowered a look on her that only made her smile more real, but his fingers reached for hers and circled her wrist. "Tell me again how you're doing."

"Less tired now," she whispered. "But don't want to even think about getting out of this bed. Sit by me? Tell me stories."

"Of course." He stroked down her knuckles to her fingers. "What kind of stories."

"Remember the elephant book you put together for James?"

His lips spread. "Those were for you at first."

"I know. What I held onto when we couldn't get pregnant, when I made mistakes, when you got sick."

"I know you did," he said softly, leaning forward again. He kissed her knuckles. "What more do you want to know?"

"Tell me what happens next, Rick." She hooked her pinky in his, trying to hold him with her gaze. "Tell me what our story looks like."

He lifted his head and propped up against the side of the bed, close enough to keep his voice low, rich. Just how she liked it.

"That irregular elephant herd has been through a lot," he said. "But they've found their watering hole, and no one dares scare them off."

And then he told her the story.

Their story.

She knew it would be good.


End file.
